Archive of Our Own ^beta

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?”

Chapter Text

“Caine?”

It was just barely a whisper, but it was enough to make the man’s bloodshot eyes go wide in surprise and realization. Then, not even two seconds after, his face contorted to one of pain and desperation. The tears flowed renewed down his reddened face.

"P-Prima!”

He lunged at you, sprang really, arms reaching toward you. You could only compare it to a cougar going for the kill. Caine landed with a hard thud at your feet, crying out as the wind was knocked out of him. Sputtering, he scrambled for purchase, grabbing at your pants and shirt as you clutched onto the wall behind you for dear life.

“Prima! P-please! Help me!”

Despite your best efforts, his pulling and pawing dragged you down until your butt hit the carpet. Your heart pounded in your chest as he clung to the front of your shirt like a frightened child. Caine shook and sobbed as he stared up at you with wild, dripping eyes.

“Prima...something’s wrong! I-I can’t...and Bubble...it feels ...I-I just couldn’t...a-and I followed you!”

You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“You...B-But Caine, that was four weeks ago!”

“D-didn’t want to be alone...worthless...b-but it... hurts! It hurts Prima why does it hurt?”

You could feel him violently shaking as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your shoulder as harsh wails escaped him. He hiccuped and seized as he curled tight against your body. You could already feel your shirt starting to grow damp with tears and snot as he rocked and babbled into you like a raving maniac.

"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!"

Fuck , what the hell were you supposed to even do ? Here you had your not-quite-ex boyfriend - who isn't even supposed to exist here - wailing like a tortured cat at your feet, groping at whatever his hands could hold onto. His hot, wet breaths puffed against your skin as he pressed further into the nape of your neck, as if trying to mentally escape whatever hell he had been thrown into.

You heard a crash by the door - the sound of a large purse being tossed into the kitchen.

"Beth!? Beth, are you okay!?"

Deborah's voice broke the cacophony as she came around the entryway, a rolling pin in hand, no doubt panicked by the still-open door and scattered groceries. She froze as soon as your eyes met, and you could only imagine how things looked with you sprawled on the floor and a strange man bawling horribly into your shoulder. Caine shook and trembled as you weakly patted his back for comfort.

Your roommate blinked, “Beth...what..?”

“Debbie,” You hissed, “It’s Caine .”

“ W-what?” She gawked, “You mean...but how?”

“I don’t fucking know!” You threw your hands up,  “He’s just here and...and...well just look at him!”

“A-alright! Alright.” The medicinal smell of Debbie’s scrubs invaded your nostrils as she knelt beside you two, “It’s okay. We’ll-we’ll figure this out. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Caine sniffed, peeking out from his place against your shoulder.

“R...Ragatha..?”

Her head dropped, a sad sigh followed by a pitying smile, “Hey, Caine. How are you...feeling?”

His face scrunched up again, and he rasped.

“Help me...”

“O-okay, okay,” Tentatively she reached out, placing a flat hand between his quivering shoulder blades. “Just take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.” She cooed, rubbing his back soothingly, “You’re safe, you’re okay. We’re here now. You’re going to be just fine, alright?”

“Fine?” You whispered to her, “How’s he going to be ‘fine’? Debbie, he’s an AI. How can he possibly-”

“Beth! Beth, he’s bleeding!”

“What?”

You looked back down at Caine. His shaking hands were still clutching at your blouse in a tight grasp, but that didn’t stop you from noticing the dark red staining his snow white gloves.

“Oh, shit!” In a panic, you grabbed at his hands, trying to pry them off you. “Caine, let go! You’re hurt!”

Yelping in pain, he only shook his head, muttering nonsensical phrases as you and Deborah started to pull him off. At first, he only pressed closer into your body, begging and crying for you to stop. His broken pleas tore at your heart, and you felt your own eyes pricking with tears, but you shook it off in knowledge that you were only doing this to help him. You weren’t trying to hurt him. Not this time. With gentle coaxing from your roommate, you finally managed to loose yourself from Caine’s crushing hold. 

The cool, free air washed over you immediately, and you allowed yourself just a second to collect yourself. You brushed away the wet hair sticking to the side of your face, gagging as you pulled a few strands out of your mouth. You readjusted your top, smoothing out the wrinkled front as you took a calming, shaky breath. Caine sat on his knees in front of you, still trembling, blood-stained gloves resting lifelessly in his lap. Debbie continued to rub slow circles in his back, whispering words of comfort that were miraculously working to soothe the poor ringmaster.

Now that Caine was no longer smothering you under his weight, you were able to get a better look at him in this new form. His spiffy red suit was unbuttoned and disheveled, bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. His black hair was soaked with sweat, bags already forming under his puffy eyes. Crap, he looked like a mess. Just how long had he been sitting in your apartment before you got home?

You scooched forward, slowly and carefully, as if approaching a rabid animal. Your fingers brushed against his, and you offered the most trustworthy smile you could muster.

“Caine?” You breathed, “Let me see?”

Wet puppy eyes met yours as Caine sniffled. Timidly, he offered both hands to you with a meek whimper. With a gentle ‘thank you’, you delicately cupped them in your own, palms facing upward so you could inspect the damage. 

Five fingers on each hand, both still considerably larger than your own, and yet you cradled them with the same tenderness as you would a tiny bird. Just as Debbie had said, the insides of both gloved hands were now soaked with blood, shards of glass sticking out at various angles that could not feel pleasant at all. No wonder why Caine was in a frenzy. Sure, he could feel a version of simulated pain as a computer program, but it had all been for show. He had always been in control of his little skits, never experiencing a situation he couldn't fix with just the snap of his fingers. He had never bled before.

Now, even the slightest touch of your fingers caused him to flinch and whine, and you tried your hardest not to cause him any more pain than he’d already been through. 

How had he even cut himself this badly? You glanced over to the window. Not so much as a single crack. There was no other way into the apartment, so just how the hell-?

You spotted it, just out of the corner of your eye. Your head turned to look at the dusty old computer that still sat in the corner. The monitor was completely shattered, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it from the inside. Bits of glass still littered the carpet by the couch. How had you not noticed that walking in?

You turned back to the ringmaster, whose eyes hadn’t left you the whole time. He blinked, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. You inhaled through your nose. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Okay. Okay. We...we’re going to take care of it. Deb, can you get the first aid kit?”

“Okay! The glass is cleaned up, his clothes are in the wash, and the groceries are put away.” Debbie clapped her hands, a surefire smile on her face as she tucked a sandy lock behind her ear. “I can take the computer to the dump tomorrow before I go to work; it’s about time we got a new one anyway. I heard Gateway is coming out with a slimmer computer that’s supposed to...hey Beth, are you okay?”

“Hm?” You glanced up from your half-filled cup of coffee, barely moving from your spot on the kitchen stool. By now it was already dark, and Deb had decided to switch off the lamp by the couch, leaving only a single incandescent light flickering above the kitchen. You sat there with your shoulders slumped, watching blankly as your roommate awkwardly stood across from you.

“So...” She huffed out a poor attempt at a laugh, “Some day, huh?”

You stared back down into your coffee mug, “Yeah. Some day.”

“I’m...sure we’ll figure this out somehow. It’ll be alright in the end!”

You shrugged, “Sure, Deb.”

She hummed, and you just knew she was shifting from foot to foot like she always did when she had something delicate to say. “You know...all things considered, I’d have thought you’d be...happier about this?”

That caught your attention, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know me, I’m certainly no dating expert, but...back in the circus, you and Caine did seem to have a real...genuine connection, you know?”

You scoffed, “Ringmaster’s favorite...”

“Oh that was just Jax being Jax!” Debbie waved her hand dismissively, “Honestly, I thought you two always looked pretty cute together. And, well, after we got out, I could tell you seemed to miss him a little bit. And now that he’s here, well...”

“I fucking hurt him, Deborah!” You slammed your hands on the countertop, voice cracking in frustration, “He begged me not to go, to stay with him! And I just pushed him away. Literally! I fucking...abandoned him forever in an empty digital circus and it hurt him so much that he followed me here and now look at him! He doesn’t fucking know what to do with himself!” You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling tight at the base of your scalp, “I...I fucking broke him, Debbie...”

“Oh no you didn’t,” You felt her hand rest on your shoulder and you fought hard not to burst into tears, “Listen, I’m sure this was just a...big change for him, is all. You remember how hard it was for us being trapped in a strange new world? Well, that’s just what he’s going through right now.”

“But Debbie,” You whispered hoarsely, “He...he’s an AI. He doesn’t belong here.”

“Well, we were able to adapt to living in a crazy computer game for possibly all eternity.” She patted your back reassuringly, “Maybe he’ll learn to adapt, too.”

You let out a defeated sigh, avoiding her knowing gaze, “He...he left everything he ever knew, everything he ever was, just because he wanted to be with me...”

Deborah hummed thoughtfully, “And what do you want, Beth?”

“I...I...” Biting your lip, you shook your head and stood, brushing past her, “I’m gonna go check on Caine.”

The door to your room creaked open slowly, carefully, and you gingerly poked your head inside. Caine was still asleep, that was a blessing. You crept further in, mindful of the squeaky floorboards, and stealthily tiptoed over to your bed. He was curled up on his side, bandaged hands still clinging to the old teddy bear you had offered as a substitute for your arm. You watched as his broad chest rose and fell in calm, even breaths, his once-wet face now washed clean and peacefully neutral. Debbie was kind enough to offer an ex-boyfriend’s old t-shirt that’d been laying around until you could buy him some proper pajamas, and thank whatever eldritch entity that existed that decided to give Caine a pair of boxers!

It was a welcome relief, seeing him in this serene state. To be honest, you weren't going to get the image of his terrified, manic, teary face out of your mind anytime soon, and you prayed that you would never have to see him like that again.

Slowly lowering yourself to sit on the bed, you took a moment to examine his now-human features. Thick black hair, wavy, not too long but not too short. It would probably style well with a decent comb and some brylcreem. Something classy and old-fashioned, he'd probably like it like that. Once he got over the novelty of actually having hair , that is. 

You chuckled to yourself. Oh yes, Caine was going to love having hair. He was always a sucker for style and pizzazz - you had seen some of the outfits he conjured up for himself - and you were sure this would be no exception. You couldn't resist the temptation to reach up and brush some stray locks out of his face. Oh wow, that was soft. Very silky. You knew women who would kill to have hair like this.

His eyebrows were dark too, and thinner than you'd seen on most men. His nose suited him too. It wasn't anything big or obtrusive, but rather a small button nose that gave him a classic case of baby-face. Untangling your fingers from his hair, you gently brushed a single digit down the side of his face. His skin was soft, too. It felt real and warm and so very delightful.

Caine's body shifted, a pleasant moan escaping his lips, and you drew your hand back as if burned. Your eyebrows shot up, face hot at the realization of what you were just doing.

"Mm...Prima?"

Sweet blue and green peeked up at you through heavy eyelids, and you wanted to kick yourself so badly.

"Uh, hey Caine..." You murdered softly, hoping to not rouse him any further, "Everything's okay, just go back to sleep."

He didn't seem to hear you though, the corner of his lip curling into a drowsy smile. "Missed you..."

You were such an ass. "I...I missed you too, buddy."

"Mm...like your new avatar...'s beautiful..."

You coughed out a weak laugh, deciding to look at anything in the room but him. "Caine..." 

Even in his half asleep state, he seemed incredibly pleased with the blush that spread across your face. "... dazzling."

"Let's just..." You cleared your throat, reaching for the blanket, "Let's just sleep for now, alright Caine?" 

Caine smiled warmly as you tucked him in further, eyes fluttering shut with a content purr. He nestled further into the pillow, squeezing the little brown teddy bear closer to his chest, and slowly his breathing began to level out again. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. Big goofball. Always was, always will be. You allowed yourself one more second to make sure that he was nice and comfortable. Didn't need him falling off the bed, after all. Once you were convinced he was finally drifting off, you carefully stood up to leave.

"Prima...?"

You paused, looking back at him. "...Yes, Caine?"

"...won't leave me this time, will you Starlet?"

The barely audible words were like a punch to the gut, and for a moment you wished that someone would. Any warm feelings you had before were quickly replaced once again by thick dread. Boy, you really fucked this one up, didn't you? You rubbed your arms and tried to think of a decent reply, something meaningful and reassuring and full of encouragement. Nothing came to mind. And so you stood there like a fence post, eyes downcast as a heavy weight settled in your chest. 

"I...I’ll do my best, Caine."

You looked up, hoping your small promise would at least ease his fears.

He was already fast asleep.

Chapter Text

"PRIMA WAKE UP"

You shrieked, flailing as you tumbled headfirst out of your bed. Instead of smashing against the hard marble floor, however, you opened your eyes to see yourself floating gracefully above the polished floor, safely cradled in Caine's arms.

"My, my, now that would've been quite a mess!" He chided, "Can't have our leading lady going to pieces right before the show, now can we?"

"Caine, are you trying to $#&%ing kill me!?"

"Of course not, my dear!" He winked, flashing you a toothy grin, "That would violate Terms and Conditions!"

He elegantly floated back up to your high-rise poster bed, and for a moment you wondered why he chose a ridiculously tall pink and white monstrosity with only a highwire as a means of getting down as your sleeping arrangements. Then you thought about it. Caine did have a pesky habit of insisting he carry you to bed each night. And as much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t about to tell him to stop. 

You still felt like you were floating, even as Caine set you down on the silky sheets.

“There you go! Safe and sound.”

"My hero,” You sighed, rolling your eyes in playful mirth, “So...what brings you here this fine morning?" As if you had to ask.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I just thought it'd be nice to surprise my dear star performer with ...breakfast in bed before the show!"

With a snap of his fingers, you were treated to a delectable tray of digital goodies. Oh, Caine was definitely laying it on thick this morning. Heart-shaped pancakes with all the trimmings: whipped cream topped with chocolate chips and a red cherry. With it, a dainty bowl of colorful cubed fruit, orange juice and, of course, a single digital rose. 

It had no taste, as usual. Unfortunate as it was, food in the digital circus was not programmed to have flavor. And while Caine’s tongue was skilled in other things , the boisterous AI had absolutely no concept of taste. Trying to explain it had been impossible, you’d all tried. Still, it was the thought that counts, and everything certainly looked tasty. So, you accepted the meal with light and eager bites, allowing your brain to try and compensate for the lack of buttery sweetness.

Caine was watching you with rapt attention, hovering in the space just in front of you. His lower jaw rested in his hands as his feet kicked behind him. He looked every bit a lovestruck schoolgirl. You grinned up at him, taking the delicate flower off of the breakfast tray. Caine blinked in surprise as you smiled, tucking the rose behind your ear. His pupils dilated. It might've been your imagination, but you could swear his gums had grown a shade pinker.

You'd be teased for it later, but it was worth it to see the ringmaster swoon at the clear display of affection. You could tell he didn't receive praise that often, and so you made it a point to show some appreciation for the little things he actually got right.

“So, Caine?” You continued as if nothing happened, “Got another wild adventure for us today?”

“O ho, do I ever! Prepare to have your satin slippers knocked right off with this one!”

“That good, huh?”

“Even better! I really think I’ve outdone myself this time, if I do say so myself!”

“Oh really?” You took another bite of your polygon pancakes, feigning disinterest. “Hm..I doubt it’ll be as exciting as yesterday’s. Those ‘laser-eyed squid-sharks from the fifth dimension’ looked pretty difficult to render, if you ask me.”

“Ohh, if you thought those were exciting, just wait until you see-oh, oh! ” Caine stopped himself, wagging a finger, “I see what you’re doing, you little minx. You know the rules! No spoilers!”

“Not even a hint?”

“Not this time, my dear!” He patted her head, “Besides, you won’t be able to see it for a few hours, anyway! So there’s no point in ruining the surprise.”

“A few hours? What do you-” You paused around a mouthful of food. You blinked once, twice. Then, your expression dropped, “Caine. What time is it?”

“W-well, about that, my dear-”

“What time is it?”

“Now now, darling, no need to be testy about it-”

“ Caine... ” You ran a hand across your face, “You woke me up at midnight, again? ”

“‘Eheh, well ...” He rubbed around where his neck would be, if he had one, “As you know, I don’t exactly need to sleep, and watching you do it was starting to get boring, so...”

“Caine,” You groaned, “ Why ...?”

He tapped his fingers together, looking away sheepishly, “I missed you.” 

Those big puppy eyes were going to be the death of you, you mused as you allowed him to poof away the remainder of your tray. 

"Aaaand I was meaning to ask you something, if you had the time?"

You smiled, "Of course, Caine. Shoot."

"Are you happy here with me?"

Okay, that was not what you were expecting. It was a loaded question, one you'd been avoiding asking yourself since you and Caine started this...thing. Now you were stuck here, watching your AI boyfriend wringing his cane as he waited so patiently for your answer. 

You crossed your legs, avoiding his innocent gaze as you thought long and hard.

"What brought this up, Caine?" You thought to ask.

"Well, I have to be honest with you, my dear. My service record as ringmaster hasn't exactly been...spotless. My adventures don't always...hit the mark with everyone and as a result I've lost a few troupe members along the way."

You had only seen it once. Right before your very eyes. Poor dude hadn't even been there a week.

"And so I was just...wanting to check in, so to speak. Make sure my little Starlet wasn't losing her mind, too." He took both of your hands in his, "You would tell me if you were starting to abstract, wouldn't you dear?"

"Trust me, Caine, you'd be the first to know." You sighed, a weight lifting off your chest. Caine grinned at you, running his thumb across the back of your pearly white hands. "While some of the adventures can be a bit...intense, at times, I know you’re trying your best to keep us all stimulated. I probably would’ve gone nuts long ago without you here to keep life interesting. All things considered, you’re by far the best thing about this place.” Meeting his eyes, you gave his hands an affectionate squeeze, “I'm not going insane anytime soon. How could I, with my dear ringmaster keeping me happy?"

You weren't imagining it this time. Caine was definitely blushing.

" Ohhh , Prima!" He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a near-crushing hug, "You're simply the sweetest!"

You squirmed in his hold, giggling at the big, wet, sloppy kiss he left on the side of your face. An incredibly mischievous idea crossed your mind, and you grabbed the front of his suit jacket, yanking him down onto the bed with you.

" Ah! N-now, now, S-Starlet..." He laughed nervously, teeth chattering as he landed on top of you, "R-remember, this is a family program! W-we can't exactly be-"

"Relax," You assured, shifting your weights so that he was laying on the bed next to you, "You woke me up in the middle of the night, Caine, and I don’t want to lose any more sleep. I think it's fair that you owe me a cuddle, don't you think?"

"Ah, yes, c-cuddling! That...that I can do, my dear." Caine visibly relaxed, wiping the nonexistent sweat off his 'brow'. 

He took off his tophat and flipped his cane in the air, and with a snap they were both propped up neatly against the headboard. It was only then that he finally allowed himself to sink under the covers, humming as you snuggled in closer. The ringmaster purred against you as slipped your arms around his waist, to which he responded by pulling you ever-so-closer into his embrace.

He was always very warm, not unlike a laptop that had been running for too long. It was nice, very relaxing, especially when he took to running a gloved hand up and down your shoulder. It did just the trick. Soon enough, you felt your eyelids begin to droop as the tender pull of sweet slumber called to you once more.

"Prima?" You heard him whisper.

"Hm...?"

"...I love you."

The sound of the fire alarm sent you barreling off the couch, face planting onto the floor of your apartment. Your heart pounded against your ribcage. Your hands felt clammy. Quickly you took a deep breath - musty carpet smell. You pinched your arm - soft, squishy, pliable skin. You reached around to your back - no windup key.

You were human. You were safe. You were fine.

"Aha! Good morning, my delicate little debutante!"

Well, almost fine.

You looked up to see Caine, clad in his red heart boxers and old t-shirt, staring down at you with the sunniest smile you had ever seen on a man. He was...oddly chipper for a man going through an existential crisis. In fact, if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said the guy standing before you now and the guy you met yesterday were two completely different people. 

You stared at him, mouth agape.

"Uh...morning," you blinked at him, "How....how are you feeling today, Caine?"

"Fine and dandy as ever, Prima!"

"...you can call me Beth." You mumbled, mind still a complete blank even as he offered a hand to help you up. 

“I hope you slept well, my dear.” He cheerfully patted your hand with his own, “Ragatha wanted me to let you know that she’s treating us all to...pancakes!”  He finished with a flair, waving his arm as if presenting one of his grand adventures.

“I...you...we...” It took a moment for your mind to catch up with you, “Her real name’s Deborah , Caine.”

“Ah, yes, Ragatha mentioned that as well,” Caine rubbed his chin, “But anyways, can’t start the day without a nutritious morning buffet, now can we?” He quipped, gesturing you towards the kitchen, just as the smell of smoke hit your nostrils.

“ Shit , what happened?” You darted over, mouth dropping at the sight of your roommate as she vigorously scrubbed at a scorched frying pan, its charred contents already dumped into the open trash can.

Debbie smiled apologetically, “Sorry for waking you up, hun. I know we all had a rough night yesterday, so I thought a nice breakfast would help to cheer everyone up.” She poured on another helping of dish soap, “Then, well, Caine over here wanted to try his hand at it and, well...”

“Debbie.” You rubbed at your temple, “His first day in the real world. And you let him near the stove.”

“Yeah...it probably wasn’t the best idea.” Giving up on the pan, Debbie dumped it into the trash as well, “You already missed him trying to drink water, by the way. He nearly drowned himself.”

“Oh crap,” You could already feel a headache coming on, “Have you just been babysitting him all morning?”

“Well, I was going to wake you, but somebody ,” She gestured behind you, “Didn’t want me disturbing your ‘beauty rest’.”

Your head turned towards Caine, who leaned against the fridge with a charmed smile on his face. Then, you almost immediately noticed something else odd about him.

You looked at Debbie, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder, “He’s...wearing his gloves?”

It was Caine that spoke up this time, "Ah, yes, well...I know that they don't exactly match my...morning attire at the moment. I'm afraid I can't really explain it. It just...hurts less?"

You nodded, "Well, you did cut yourself pretty good yesterday."

"No, no. I mean besides that." He was looking down at his hands, twiddling his fingers as if trying to unravel an unspoken mystery, "There's something about this body. Everything feels a lot...more? Like there's a live wire in my system. I've never been this high-resolution before."

"Caine," Was there any way to put this that wouldn't throw him into another panic attack? "You're more than high definition now. You're...you..." 

You bit your lip. You just couldn't. Not right now, at least. Not this early in the morning.

"You must be hungry. C'mon, how about some cereal?"

"Good golly, Prima, this is fantastic! "

Apparently, Caine liked Froot Loops.

Quite a lot, actually. Truth be told, Caine looked like he just discovered crack. Honestly, what were you expecting from a guy who just experienced sugar for the first time in his life? It was actually kind of funny to see: his eyes going wide with whimsical wonder, barely containing his excitement as he popped another artificially-colored loop into his mouth, moaning lewdly as the new sense of taste assaulted his mouth.

"It's so... it's so ...my stars, why did I never think of this? "

The irony wasn't lost on you one bit, or your roommate for that matter. Both of you watched in silent amusement as Caine continued to act like he'd just found the Holy Grail, munching delightfully on his dry cereal with unrestrained giddiness. 

"Just wait until we introduce him to chocolate. " Debbie whispered with a bemused laugh.

Caine still refused to take off his starched gloves, despite the holes in both palms. Picking up individual pieces of froot loops with those pristine white fingers made him look like some sort of cereal inspector.

The thought alone made you chuckle, catching Caine's attention immediately. You hadn't meant to meet his gaze, you really hadn't. It was too late, though. Your eyes met and his hyper grin turned to a much more satiated simper. Wordlessly, he nudged his bowl closer to you, offering a sample of the confectionary goodness he had been introduced to. Normally you weren't a fan of super sugary cereals, but when he was looking at you with that big, goofy, expecting smile, just how could you refuse?

Just as you were about to help yourself to the tooth-rotting breakfast food, there was a pounding at the door.

" Beth!? You there? Wake up, you're gonna make us late!"

Oh fuck. Tiffany.

You froze.

Oh fuck! You had first shift today!

"Shit, shit! " You tossed your half-empty cereal bowl into the sink, milk and all, tripping over yourself as you ran to the door in a half-panic. 

You practically ripped the door open, and there stood your more-than-annoyed ride, tapping her foot impatiently as she clutched her phone in one hand. She looked you over once, balking.

"You're not even dressed yet? I've been waiting outside for almost twenty minutes! Why didn’t you answer your phone? You're lucky I didn't leave your lazy ass." 

You really didn't like Tiffany. To be honest, she was a bitch. If she didn't have a car and you didn't work at the same place, you wouldn't even be speaking to her. Still, returning to real life after being trapped in a digital realm for so many years, you needed a job and you needed a ride. It’s the one and only reason you held your tongue instead of snapping on her about the night you'd just had.

The other woman tucked her hair behind her ear, face glowering as if daring you to explain yourself. An exhausted groan left you as you rubbed your forehead.

"Tiff, I can't go into work today. Can't you tell Bill I'm sick?"

Tiffany crossed her arms, "You don't look sick."

"Look, Tiff, I just can't today. Some stuff happened last night and I really need to stay home."

"Oh? What kind of stuff?"

"Why, hello there! Prima, my dear, you didn't say you were expecting company!"

Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck .

You didn't even need to turn around. You already knew what you would see.

Caine. Red heart boxers. Standing directly behind you. With the biggest, most oblivious smile known to mankind.

Heat slowly crawled up your neck as the other woman hit you with a knowing smirk.

" Oh. That kind of stuff. "

"Fuck, Tiff, no-!"

"So, who's the hunk?"

"Tiffany, please-!"

"Ah, I'm so sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced!" Caine stepped around you, taking Tiffany's hand in a firm shake. "My name is Caine! I'm Prima’s ringmaster, her dashing beau, her gentleman caller, her personality-packed-paramour!" An arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. "In layman's terms, I'm her boyfriend!"

You buried your face in your hands. This couldn't be happening this just could not be happening holy fu-

"Fucking finally," The woman snickered, "No wonder you look like such a mess. Luck- y girl."

"Tiff, it's not what you-!"

"Oh, believe me," Caine crooned, a hand over his heart, "I'm the lucky one in this radiant relationship!" 

"Oh I bet," You peeked through your fingers, and immediately regretted it. Dear lord, she was practically undressing him with her eyes! Not that there was much to undress anyway. "You treating her good, then, big boy?"

"But of course! Only the absolute best for my star performer!"

" HahaokayCaine I think Debbie's calling you! " You finally interjected, pushing yourself between the two as you nudged him back towards the door with a painfully forced smile, "Me and Tiff just need to talk for a sec. Alone, if that's okay?"

Caine nodded in apparent understanding, "Ah, I see! Some good, ol' fashioned lady's talk." He patted your shoulder, "Gab away, then, my dear! I'll just go and help myself to more of that delicious cereal!"

You breathed out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing, "Sure, Caine, go ahead. I'll be just a minute."

"Splendid, my dear!" Just when you thought the worst was over, you felt something wet and warm draw a long stripe across your cheek. “Don’t be too long, sweetheart.”

Caine went back inside, politely closing the door behind him. By then, your heart had alreadt exited your body through your asshole and was making its way at light speed to the center of the Earth. You stood there, stiff as a tree, stomach curdling at Tiffany’s red face, raised eyebrows, and cheshire cat grin. Your own face felt like it was on fire. You wanted to throw up, hide in a corner, and die. Maybe if you asked, good ol’ Tiff could just run you over with her car. 

A solid minute passed, and Tiffany broke the awkward silence with the loudest, most obnoxious cackle.

“H-holy. Fuck! Is your boyfriend part labrador or something?” She doubled over, wheezing, “Shit, girl, where were you hiding him ? Ohoho, please tell me he has a brother!”

“Tiff, it’s not...you don’t...” Your mouth felt like cotton.

“So what, he’s your ringmaster? What are you, his little acrobat?” The other woman wiped a tear from her face, “Mother Mary, that’s kinky as hell!”

“Tiffany, shut up ... ! ”

“Okay, okay. Damn,” Tiffany was slow to compose herself, cheeks still pink from laughing in your face. “Gotta say, honey, you landed yourself a hot one right there. Might not be much for brains, but that ass... ”

“ Tiff-! ”

“Can’t say I blame you for wanting to stay home.”

“Tiffany, just...,” You sucked in a deep breath through your nose. “Listen. My,” You swallowed, “ boyfriend , had an accident last night. He suffered a traumatic brain injury. Concussion. He isn’t really safe to be on his own right now. If you could just...talk to Bill?”

“Oh I read you loud and clear, sister,” She winked. You wanted to knock her teeth in. “I’ll take care of work. You just relax and look after that sweet boy toy of yours.”

You held back a groan, not wanting to push the matter, “Thanks, Tiff. See you whenever?”

“Oh you know it, sweetie!” She practically skipped down the hallway with a dramatic wave, “Just don’t have too much fun now, you hear? Because that’s how babies are made! ”

Man, if murder wasn't illegal.

You hung your head, showing yourself back into the apartment with a huff.

“Hey,” Debbie greeted you. You noticed she had thrown on her scrubs and was already packing her lunch for the day, “How was your talk?”

You slumped against the wall. “I’ve really got to get my own car."

"I heard her honking out there like a goose," Debbie grabbed an apple off the kitchen counter, "Same old Tiffany, huh?"

"Yeah, well Caine walking out in his underwear didn't help things." 

"Heh...He's always had a knack for popping up at the worst possible times, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," A dry laugh escaped you, "It's still him. Even with a brand new body, that crazy goofball hasn't changed a bit." You looked around, "Where is he, anyway?"

"Bathroom," Deborah pointed, "I offered to help him with it, but he insisted he could do it on himse-"

Queue the high pitched shriek that sent you sprinting. Your breath caught. Holy shit he found the razors he found the razors-!

You expected a bloody mess. A crime scene. Something out of a cheap horror movie. What you got instead was Caine doubled over the sink, shaking, fingers twitching as he grabbed at his head.

"P- Prima! " There it was again. That voice. That tiny, frightened voice from yesterday. Only a few feet separated you, but it felt like you were standing on opposite sides of the grand canyon. Caine was as white as a sheet, eyes glued to the bathroom mirror, mortified as an equally-terrified stranger stared back at him. His head snapped towards you, eyes wild and searching, "Prima! My...my face!" Gloved hands clawed at his cheeks. "My face! It's all wrong! This...this isn't my... Prima, help me! "

Fuck, not again. Caine's shaking was already starting to worsen, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he pulled at the skin under his eyes. "My...my eyes, and my-" He shoved his hands into his mouth, immediately hacking as he choked on his fingers. 

You jumped the chasm, grabbing his wrists and yanking them away from his face.

"Caine! Caine, stop that! You'll hurt yourself."

"B-but my...my character model's all wrong! I...Prima, what's happened to me?" His hands reached for your clothes, "T-this morning, I...I tried to spawn a new outfit, but I...and I didn't want to worry you, I thought it was just a glitch and everything would turn back to normal, but it isn't! A-and this place! These rooms! I don't remember making any of this! Just look! " He snapped repeatedly in front of your nose, "N-nothing! I...I can't do anything, I... what's wrong with me what's wro-"

"Caine!" Grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him onto the toilet seat was the only way you could think of steadying him. He blinked in surprise at the sudden bout of strength, followed by soft tenderness as you held the sides of his face in a gentle caress. 

"Caine, please...just relax. Look at me. Breathe," His eyelids fluttered close as you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, wiping away the few stray tears. For a moment you were surprised at just how quickly the slightest touch could shut him up, and then you remembered what he said earlier. Just how intense was human sensation for a being created from strings of code?

You encouraged him to take deep breaths. In, out. In...out.

"Can you hear me right now?" You whispered. 

Caine nodded, glassy eyes pleading. 

"Alright... shit. Listen, you...we're not in the circus anymore, Caine. This is the human world. " You watched as his eyes got wider and wider, "You didn't just follow me to a different map or another computer program. You're in the real world now, where all people come from. And... fuck... that's not all of it. I don't know how, but... somehow you're human, too."

Letting it all sink in for a moment, you waited for the penny to drop. You could see the cogs turning as Caine slowly processed the news. His eyes drifted to his lap, and he twiddled and flexed his gloved fingers, staring down at his hands with growing astonishment.

You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tilting his head back up to meet your eyes.

"I can't say I understand a lot of what's going on right now. It's scary. I don’t know how you got here or why you even look like this and...I can only imagine how strange this all feels to you right now. New world, new body... At least you've got Debbie here. And...me. We have a little experience with this kind of stuff, believe it or not." You offered a weak laugh, "We're not going to let you go through this on your own. Whatever you need...we're in this together, okay?"

Somehow, you were all going to make this work. You didn’t know how, and you weren’t entirely sure what insanity awaited you on the other side of the tunnel, but it was a walk you were going to make as a team. 

Then Caine stood with a purpose, towering over you once more. You took a cautious step back. The pure, unrestrained awe that radiated off of him was enough to make you feel weak. His eyes glistened with tears, but they were instead accompanied by a quivering smile, and he pulled you in.

The ringmaster’s hold had you pressed against his chest. You felt the firmness of one arm wrapped around your waist. An affectionate hand lovingly pet your head. If Caine hadn’t been holding you so tight, your knees would’ve buckled.

There was a heartbeat, you could feel it. Just beneath your fingertips, thumping strong and steady in even, healthy beats. You couldn’t believe it. A real, human heart. His heart. You hesitantly buried your ear into his chest, yearning for more of that feeling. Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. Fuck, that was...oh shit, that felt nice ...

Weightlessness began to overtake you in calm, rolling waves. You huddled closer, caught between feeling constricted and not being near close enough. The soothing heartbeat enveloped you, claiming your senses. It was hypnotizing, intoxicating. The most luxurious bubble bath couldn’t compare. A girl could lose herself in a heartbeat like that.

You felt Caine shudder against you, burying his nose in your hair, breathing in your unique scent.

“Starlet.”

“Um...everything okay in here, guys?”

You were pulled out of the waters and back to your apartment bathroom, still stuck in Caine’s arms. Debbie shifted awkwardly in the doorway, trying to fight the pinkness on her cheeks. 

Your roommate coughed, “Hey, I’ve gotta get to the hospital, if that’s alright with you?”

You nodded, “Sure, Deb.”

“Are you...sure you can handle him on your own?”

You glanced up at Caine, then back at Debbie, “I’m sure. Just go, don’t wanna keep your ride waiting.”

“Well, alright then. Have a safe day, you two!” She offered a gentle wave goodbye, turning to leave, and you just barely noticed the grin creeping on her face.

Rolling your eyes, you fidgeted in Caine’s grasp. You were starting to feel a little too squished for your liking. But...what exactly were you going to do with him?

Tiffany’s haunting snicker rang in your ear. You promptly shoved it into the deepest, darkest hole your mind had to offer. 

Then, another, more helpful thought came to mind.

"Since it’s your first day here, how about a fun little activity to warm yourself up to your new life in the circus!”

“Hey, Caine? Would you like to play a game?”

That immediately caught his attention, “A game?”

You smiled at him, “Sure! Since I’m not going into work, maybe you and I could make a lazy day out of it. I’ll make us some snacks, turn on the tv, and we could get a board game out of the closet. What do you say?”

Ah, there it was. That twinkle in his eyes coupled with a wide, delighted grin. Caine never said no to an adventure, and you were certain he wouldn’t deny it at a time like this. Finally he released you from his grip with an excited laugh.

“Prima, my stunning little star, that sounds marvelous!”

“Great,” You were genuinely smiling this time, chuckling at the familiar enthusiasm, “How do you feel about Candy Land?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been, my dear!” He scratched his chin, “But I’m sure you’ll be able to show me!”

“Of course. But first,” You took a step back, eyeing him up and down, “Let’s try and find where Debbie left your pants. ”

Chapter Text

It was four in the morning.

Four. In the goddamn morning.

When your phone’s sharp screen decided to burn through your eyelids.

You shifted on the couch, wincing at the tight kink in your neck. Swiping your phone open, you grumbled.

Tiffany.

Either she was an early riser, or she’d been clubbing and had yet to go to bed.

‘hey girl, ur welcome!’

You huffed, opened the messenger app. Please don’t be drunk please don’t be drunk...

‘...Thanks? For what?’

Tiff responded almost immediately.

‘told Bill about ur “concussed” boyfriend.’ You rolled your eyes. Another text . ‘he’s letting u take the week off’

You blinked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes enough to write an actual response.

‘Wow, I appreciate it! Thanks!’

Another text.

‘he’s taking it out of ur vacation time btw. have fun with your boy toy, sweetie! ’

You groaned. Of course.

‘...thanks, Tiff.’

At least it would give you some time to help Caine adjust. He was still so new to this body, and how he’d handle your returning to work was a whole other issue. A week wasn’t much, but it was more than you had been expecting. Either way, you were going to have to come up with a plan. But that could wait until morning.

You let your head fall to the pillow, a tired sigh escaping your lips. Your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and you let them fall on their own accord. Slowly, you began to let sleep pull you into its warm, cozy darkness once more.

A strong finger poked your cheek.

“Prima...darling? I think I might be hungry again.”

Of. Fucking. Course.

You made yourself an extra strong pot of coffee that morning. Caine wasn’t allowed any.

"Okay, ringmaster. One more time."

You both stood straight across from each other, right in the middle of the living room. Your posture was rigid and upright, head held high and commanding like the world's greatest military general. Caine was your attentive, alert private, eyes locked on yours with every word said. Although, he hadn't yet mastered the art of standing still. He clasped his hands behind his back, chest puffed out, smiling proudly as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

You couldn’t help but admire your handiwork, just a little bit. Half of yesterday had been spent playing board games, making snacks, and watching family-friendly cartoons. The other half was you teaching Caine how to actually dress himself. It was a bit of a hurdle, and you had to constantly remind the former AI that no, you can't just change outfits like customizing an avatar. It didn't help either that Caine was extremely ticklish, and your first hundred attempts to wrestle him into his clothes ended with him in a giggling pile on the floor.

But, just as in life, you put this literal and figurative pair of pants on one leg at a time. And, once you both got past the chaos, Caine was surprisingly a fast learner.

It was a new morning, a new day, and now Caine barely needed help getting dressed. His pants and suit were neatly pressed, courtesy of Debbie, black leather shoes shined and tied. His black hair was combed back, save for one stubborn lock that dangled mockingly between his eyes.

After two days as a human, his face already had a shadow, but there was no way you were letting him handle sharp objects. It was the one thing you firmly insisted on; the ringmaster had enough of a history with knives to support that. And, to be fair, Caine positively detested the feeling of prickly facial hair. There were absolutely no complaints when you sat him on the toilet, shaving his face with your own razor until his cheeks were buttery smooth.

So here he stood before you, beaming like a child on their first day of school. Now that he was fully clothed and properly groomed, he looked like his old self again.

Well. Maybe not exactly like his old self. Calmer, though. More confident.

You crossed your arms in front of you.

“From the top.”

“Of course, my tenderhearted tutor!” He points a finger in the air, reciting, “For today’s adventure: I am no longer in the Amazing Digital Circus! I am in the very non-digital human world as a living, breathing, roguishly handsome human being.” 

He waggled his brow at you. You looked to the side, “And?”

“And as a human being, I no longer have the spellbinding abilities I once possessed in the digital domain. I cannot float, squish, stretch, or alter the appearances of my surroundings or other humans in any whimsical, wacky way. This is permanent and I can’t change it no matter how much I try, ” You didn’t miss the twinge of annoyance in his voice.

“Keep going, Caine.”

He shook himself, clearing his throat, “Yes, yes. As a human, I now come with a wide range of fantastical new abilities! This includes amazing bodily functions such as hunger! Waste disposal! Hygiene management! And let's not forget the most important of all... mortality!" He waved an arm through the air, as if expecting confetti to rain from above, "Yes, that's right folks! Your beloved ringmaster now possesses the incredible ability to die in gruesome, unspeakable fashions! Such as-!"

"Caine." You stopped him.

"Ah, right! Sorry, my dear." Caine flicked his wrist, "Back to the main point. As I only have a single life and no respawns, no merciful net beneath this intrepid tightrope I now traverse, it would be best if I don't die in horrible and traumatizing ways. Which is why I - your sensational showman - with the help of my lovely assistant, must take on the challenges of: avoiding strangers, staying out of the street, and not eating anything that may not actually be food! Even if it looks extremely delicious." 

He was talking about the soap. You didn’t want to talk about the soap. 

Instead you breathed in sharply through your nose, letting your shoulders relax just slightly.

“Okay...alright.” He had the basics down. You knew you couldn’t put this off any longer. “Let’s go do some shopping.”

“Splendid! This is sure to be a thrilling adventure, my dear!” He laced an arm around your waist, removing his top hat with a wide flair of his arm, “And off we go!”

You stood there. Stiffly.

"... Caine?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"You can't teleport, either."

"...oh."

It was still fairly early in the morning, that much was a blessing on its own. Downtown Brooklyn tended to get real hectic, real quick if you waited too long to start your day. Caine's early wake up call - as... displeasing as it was - did you both a favor. Most of the city still had yet to awaken, the sidewalks not yet stuffed to the gills with busy people rushing either to or from work. It gave both you and Caine some space to breathe, which was especially good for the dear ringmaster.

Even as you walked together, hand in hand lest he wander off to parts unknown, you had to fight the nagging feeling in the back of your head. Caine's first time outside, the real outside. So many things could happen in these next few hours. Muggings, car accidents, attempted murder by some unknown strangler! Fuck , you weren't one to jump to dramatics, but this was Caine you were talking about here! He was a walking accident waiting to happen, for crap's sake!

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to take a calming breath.

This was okay. This was a necessary venture. Caine needed clothes, and the ones he came here with didn't come with tags. You had to bring him along. 

Besides, you couldn't just keep him cooped up in the apartment for the rest of his life. Caine might have been a lot of things, but he wasn't a dog.

"Is your boyfriend part labrador or something?"

You shook off the snickering echo in your head, grimacing as one small, annoying word remained.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

"In layman's terms, I'm her boyfriend!"

"Listen. My...boyfriend had an accident last night."

What the hell exactly were you and Caine right now, anyway? 

You tilted your head to the side as you walked, watching as Caine followed along. His hand was securely clasped in yours, eyes sparkling, following you like a lost puppy dog. He certainly seemed to think things were fine between you two. Hell, if anything Caine seemed to be even more lovey-dovey than he was in the circus! 

Not that you had ever minded the affection, per say, but like this? When he was undoubtedly, unquestionably the most vulnerable he’d ever been in his life? How did you know he didn’t have some sort of brain damage from smashing through your computer?

Is this even what he really wanted?

He must have noticed your staring, because he took a bold step closer to you, shoulders brushing teasingly against each other. He met your eyes with a warm, comforting smile, and you were suddenly trying to look at anything but the snappy-dresser.

Fuck, how the hell was he looking at you like that? As if you hadn't just rudely and suddenly ditched him at the first chance you got. Just how the hell was he not pissed off at you?

When he wasn't gazing at you, Caine took to observing his surroundings. His mismatched eyes were filled with pure awe as he took in everything. 

“Wowza!  Dearest, would you just look at this rendering? Incredible! Even the sidewalks are detailed!”

“Prima? Just how much processing power does it take to run a map this large?”

“ Egads! How do you have all these assets without any lag? Remarkable frame rate, my dear!”

You also saw him wrinkle his nose as quite a few things. For one, the color palette wasn't to his liking. Grays and browns were hardly mentally simulating, after all. That, and the severe lack of slides, swings, or any obvious forms of joyful enrichment bore much criticism from the eccentric ringmaster.

"Honestly, my dear, how do you all keep from abstracting?” He waved a hand disparagingly, “Where's the fun? The pizazz? The uncontainable zaniness? "

You finally managed to get a word in edgewise.

"It isn't all that bad, Caine." You shrugged, "It's not like that's even possible in the real world, anyway."

Caine stopped mid-step, causing your arm to be tugged at an odd angle. His face seemed to be frozen, eyebrows at his hairline and mouth agape. He looked like a fish. An utterly shocked, hopelessly confused fish. One who'd just discovered there was a whole other world just above the surface of the water.

"You...you mean...you can't ...!?"

You shook your head, "No, Caine. Humans can't abstract in the real world."

He blinked, sputtering, "B-but...what if you go insane? "

"Most of us just...don't," You gently explained, "And for those that do, well, we have doctors who can help make them better. But even then, no one turns into big, ugly, pixelated monsters here. It's just...not possible."

He grew oddly silent. It was as if his entire body was hanging on puppet strings, but was suddenly cut loose. His chest curved inward, shoulders going lax. He closed his mouth, odd-colored eyes strangely avoiding yours as he stared vacantly at the ground in front of him. You watched him take a small, uneasy breath, and didn't miss how his eyes drifted to his free hand. He clenched his gloved fingers once, twice, and for a moment his expression was nearly unreadable. It almost seemed...doubtful? Contempt? You couldn't say for sure, and the thought alone made you feel uneasy.

His voice was barely a whisper, “I...I didn't..."

"Hey, watch it!"

You yanked on Caine’s arm, moving him out of the way of a grumpy pedestrian. Probably just some poor asshole getting off a night shift. That didn't stop the dirty look that crossed your face as the passerby walked around you, eyeballing Caine's flashy red outfit with a snort. 

What a jerk.

Still, you had to admit, Caine was dressed a little too extravagantly for an every day morning in a modern city. 

Something you planned to remedy very soon.

Turning the corner of another block, you and Caine found yourselves at your destination.

Crossing the massive parking lot, you hoped and you prayed that Caine could behave better in a Kohl's than he did under a digital big top.

To his credit, Caine's demeanor inside the white-walled department store was a lot better than you were expecting. He voiced no complaints at all as you led him through the men's section, holding his arms out obediently as you sized him up using different colored t-shirts.

“Definitely a large, I'd say,” You mumbled to yourself, pulling out a couple bargain-brand shirts and holding them against his chest, “I think these should fit you just fine. I'll keep the receipts just in case, though.” 

Another benefit to Caine's new human body: those wide arms easily doubled as a makeshift rack. You slung a couple of basic, cotton t-shirts over his forearm, hangers clacking as you flipped through more clothes. 

“Now we just need to find you some jeans and-”

“Um…Starlet?”

“Hm?” You were in the middle of pulling another shirt off the rack when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as your human-in-training shifted from one foot to another. Caine's uncomfortable grimace made you pause, “If you need to use the restroom again, just say so. I can take you.”

“No, no!” He was quick to assure, “It…heh…it isn't that, my dear.”

You turned fully toward him, “Then what's wrong?”

The tapping of his foot echoed through the store as he eyed the t-shirts on his arm. His nose scrunched and his lips curled in a distasteful simper.

Sour. That was a sour look right there. You couldn't miss it. 

The only other time you'd seen him radiate that kind of energy was in the circus, when a project of his just wasn't going the way he envisioned it.

You quirked a brow, “You don't like the clothes?”

Caine quickly backtracked, waving a hand around absentmindedly, “It…isn't that I don't appreciate your efforts, my star! Far from it! You've been such a help and I'm honored to be your prized pupil in these troubling times…”

“But…?”

“But…” he scratched the back of his neck, “I…I'm a ringmaster, you know. The first person everyone sees before the grand show! It's my job to make a great first impression and, well…I've never been one to dress so…so… casual . It just…”

“Isn't you.” You conceded. The shirt in your hand went back on the rack. “I get it, Caine. To be honest, I can't really see you walking around like a 90s dad, anyway. It just doesn't fit.” You offered a compassionate smile, “Plus, it's your body. You should be able to dress in what makes you the most comfortable.”

Caine's face lit up as you took back the plain shirts he was holding.

“C'mon,” You nudged his shoulder, guiding him further into the men's wear, “I think they might have something that's more your style.”

And so you found yourself sitting on a bench in front of the fitting rooms, eagerly waiting for Caine to reemerge.

“Now that's more like it!” His voice boomed from within the stall.

The door swung open, and there stood a very proud and very satisfied ringmaster. He beamed at you, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. You were certain he was expecting a heavenly glow and a triumphant orchestra. No doubt in the circus, there would’ve been. Sadly, reality meant you were left to inspect his first outfit choice without the pomp and circumstance.

The simple, cream colored vest over a starched button-down shirt was a mixture of both Caine’s ideas and your own. It hadn’t taken long to realize that he naturally gravitated towards more fanciful apparel. Sequins, bright colors, and energetic patterns were an utter weakness of his. More than once did you have to confiscate certain items, reminding him that, while you certainly respected his aesthetic choices, a big part of living in the human world involved not attracting too much attention. Perhaps it was a tall order for the boisterous AI, but after a while you two managed to settle on a compromise, a healthy and fashionable middle ground.

Looking at him now, you could tell it was worth the lengthy debate.

He gave a marvelous spin, arms wide and inviting, with a smile full of teeth and a hearty laugh sitting on his lips. Your fingers drummed along the top hat that sat patiently in your lap, a warm and bubbly feeling compelling the corner of your mouth to twitch. 

When he stopped mid-twirl to run his fingers through his hair and playfully wink in the mirror, a string snapped inside your stomach and you bent over with a snort. The act didn’t go unnoticed, even as your palm quickly muffled the squeaky giggle.

Grinning, Caine took a bow.

“I take it the lady approves?”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your face to fight against the growing, irksome heat.

“Oh brother. ”

Despite your better judgment, you allowed your eyes the guilty pleasure of admiring Caine’s new attire. That warm ivory vest could’ve been hand-tailored with how well it fit, cut to precision and bold across his wide chest. Gentle pinstripes traced their path down to the tight curve of his hips - Caine’s figure was still a perfect inverted triangle in the real world and damn, did it suit him. Maybe even a little too well. Briefly, you wondered if there was a suit Caine couldn’t look good in. You strongly doubted it. 

He leaned against the doorframe, gold-colored buttons sparkling at you. You took a moment to count them. One, two, three, four, all the way down to a tucked-in shirt and a well-fitting pair of black slacks that seemed to just barely hide a nicely trimmed waist.

Caine suddenly twisted away, a mad shade of red covering his face as he recoiled into the dressing room, hiding his face in his hands with an embarrassed spout of laughter. Pointless apologies wiggled their way through his gloved fingers, and this time you didn’t even dare to stop your own smile.

“Oh, don’t tell me the bold and charismatic ringleader is getting flustered .”

“W- what? ” His head whipped around to stare at you incredulously, ears still burning, “I-I’m not-! You’re-! We-! Ohhh, Prima! ” He scrambled for the door handle, hiding himself away in the dressing room once more. 

You grabbed the other vests and dress shirts sitting at your side, each a different color, along with his hat and a pair of tan gloves you’d dug out of the clearance bin. Contemplating for a moment, you went to grab one last accessory before returning to knock on the fitting room door.

You could hear the shuffling of clothing, the zipping of a zipper.

“Caine?”

“ AH! Prima! D-Don’t come in here! I’m not decent!”

“You can call me Beth, you know.” You reminded him absentmindedly, “When you’re done in there, I have something else for you. I think you'll like it.”

A few moments later, the door creaked open and Caine’s head peeked out. You held the item out in front of you for him to see.

A simple, wooden cane with a simply curved handle.

The door swung open again, and you winced at the loud bang when it hit the adjacent wall.

Your hands suddenly felt empty as he swiped the cane from you, shoulders hunching as he inspected the new accessory. His fingers caressed the curve of the handle, feeling along the wood grain before both fists started wringing the shaft. 

Briefly, you noticed Caine hadn’t put his red suit jacket back on. You pushed past him into the dressing room, retrieving it along with the new vest and slacks. However, when you turned, Caine’s entire body was filling the doorway.

A relieved smile was washed over his face as he stood there, holding the cane close to his chest. He looked breathless, calmer, as if a massive weight was just lifted off his chest.

“Prima. My Starlet, h-how did you-?”

You hugged the other new clothes closer to yourself, “Well, I know your old cane broke, and this one was on sale so...” 

In a flash, the clothes in your arms were scattered on the floor, your fingers were digging into a crisp white shirt, and you were suddenly staring wide-eyed into mirthful, dazzling blue and green irises. Noses touched, brushing teasingly against each other as Caine’s warm breath caressed your face. There was a stiff, wooden pressure on your lower back from the cane, which Caine had masterfully used to pull you close. So close and yet damn it not close enough! 

Your breath hitched as Caine tugged on both ends on the cane, pulling you flush to him as your back hit the wall. Pressed together. In the fitting room. Of a public store.

Fuck, this was straight out of a B-rated dirty movie and you weren’t doing anything to stop it!

He chuckled. It was a low, velvety sound that tickled your ear as he nuzzled into the crown of your hair. The shell of your ear suddenly felt wet from one of Caine’s ‘kisses’ and your entire body trembled. You tried to say something, anything, your mind quickly turning into a frenzied battle of yes please more and fuck no get out run and you knew damn well which side was winning.

Another swipe of his tongue against your earlobe had you keening. Such a tiny gesture and yet shit how the hell was he doing this to you?

“My dear, oh my dear ,” He cooed, quietly and sweetly with an affectionate nuzzle, “You are far too good to me.”

No you weren’t.

No you fucking weren’t!

The feeling hit you like a freight train, slamming into your ribcage with a force that had you gasping at air. The fingers tangled into his shirt pushed, detaching the stunned ringmaster from your person as you reeled, chest heaving as you struggled to remain standing on your own. 

Easy, girl. Calm down. Crisis averted. You’re okay.

The ringmaster pressed a flat hand to his chest, a hurt expression briefly crossing his face before he was shaking his head, reaching for you with concern.

“Prima? What’s wrong? Are you alright, dear?”

You forced a smile, mentally kicking yourself as you sunk to the floor, gathering up the vests and shirts pooled around your feet.

“Y-yeah, yes Caine, I’m fine, just...” You dared not look him in the eye, “Clothes. Your clothes. We...we need to check out...”

And then he was kneeling down to your level, tilting your chin up with a single digit. Your eyes widened with disbelief. What you saw in front of you was neither a look of scorn or anger or even mild annoyance.

His eyes were warm. Kind. Forgiving. 

“Thank you, my dear.”

...How? Just how could he...?

You closed your eyes, taking another even, calming breath.

Just why couldn’t you allow yourself even one warm, sweet, happy moment?

Caine said nothing more, a contented simper on his face as he helped you gather the articles of clothing while you collected yourself. He stood first, offering you a hand. You took it, and he gently led you out of the fitting room.

Caine needed more than new clothes. You were quick to grab him the essentials: boxers, socks, deodorant, shampoo, combs, and even a blue toothbrush that had him oddly blushing like a little schoolgirl.

It cost you an entire paycheck, but at least Caine was chivalrous enough to carry the bags. His red jacket was cradled safely in your arm.

"Prima?" Caine had asked as you walked side-by-side together on the bustling sidewalk, "Would you mind if I asked you a bit of a personal question?"

"Uh...sure, Caine. Shoot."

He lifted an arm, adjusting his hold on the shopping bags.

"Obviously I don't know too much about real human preferences when it comes to character models - all your avatars were randomly generated in the Amazing Digital Circus - but...would you say my new body is...attractive?"

You must've given him a very surprised look, because he was already shrinking away. You tried to find the right words to say. Somehow you ended up biting your lip anyway.

"I...I don't think I'm qualified to answer that, Caine."

"...oh."

Crap, now he looked disappointed.

"But! If I was...I mean, you know...yeah. I'd say you look good, Caine." Really, really good.

His body straightened, smiling hopefully.

"You mean that, sweetheart?"

You let out an airy chuckle, shaking your head, "Caine, I'm going to have to be fighting everyone off with a stick. You did not make this easy for me."

"Ahh, I see..." Damn it, that smugness in his voice was both annoying and terribly sexy, and he playfully bumped your shoulder with his own, "In that case, I'll just have to resign myself to breaking a few hearts. Because this ringmaster only has eyes for one leading lady!"

This was unfair. This was an uneven playing field. Whoever was responsible for the way your life was turning out, you were ready to throw hands.

You laughed anyway, lacing your arm around his own.

"Hey, are you hungry again? I know this pizza place down the street, the owner's an ass but the food is absolutely killer." You turned them both around, leading Caine in a new direction. "C'mon, it'll be my treat."

It would be quite some time before you returned to the apartment, but you were sure to bring home enough food for everyone.

“Well! Don’t you look like a million bucks?”

Debbie clapped her hands cheerfully as Caine sauntered in the living room, showing off another one of his new ensembles. He twirled his cane once, leaning on it with a smile as he sent a mischievous wink your way. You pretended not to notice as you fiddled with a cord, plugging into what was hopefully the correct jack, if you were even reading the instructions correctly. You looked back over your shoulder to your roommate as she stood, helping herself to another slice of pizza.

“Thanks for the new computer, by the way.”

“Oh it was no problem!” She dismissed, “Bit of an expensive day for us, huh?”

You smirked, “Caine is an expensive man.”

“Excuse me! I believe you meant to say snazzy and well-dressed , my sweet!”

“Not to mention modest ,” You jabbed back, connecting another cord into the monitor, “I’ll clean some junk out of my closet. Been meaning to do that, anyway. You can take half, Caine.”

“Oh but, my luminous lead, you shouldn’t have to...”

“I won’t hear any objections, ringmaster,” Plugging the power cord into the wall, you stood to turn on the computer, “You live here now, you’re one of us. You are more than welcome to have some space of your own, too. It isn’t much, but what’s mine is yours, Caine.”

“Aw!” 

“Oh shush, Deb.” You pulled up a chair and ran the setup wizard, checked the internet connection, and opened up a browser. Already you were impressed by the newer model. It certainly ran faster than that old piece of junk, and this time you were much more wary of shifty video game companies and supposedly harmless advertisements for young and inexperienced ‘beta testers’.

You heard Caine moan in the background, no doubt helping himself to a greasy slice of pepperoni as you logged into your account. The cheap-but-flavorful New York style pizza was already calling your name, but you’d be satisfying your empty stomach soon enough. 

You just had to check on one, small thing. 

This was something you’d done every single day since emerging from the digital circus. It was a long shot, but you weren’t giving up quite so soon.

As soon as you clicked into the group page, you noticed something new.

A notification. The very first one.

Request to Join Group: xXMasuku-ChanXx

The profile page didn’t have much to offer, just some cute cat photos and shared links to viral music videos. They must’ve had their profile set to ‘friends only’. Other than that, there wasn't much to go on.

However, one thing managed to catch your attention. The profile picture. Just updated yesterday.

It was a single red bow.

“ Deborah! ” You spun in your chair, causing both Caine and your roommate to freeze. You looked Debbie dead in the eye, feeling the color drain from your face as you gripped the arms of your chair.

“I think we found someone.”

Chapter Text

Returning to the real world hadn’t been as easy as expected.

After the initial buzzing in your head had subsided and your blurry, burning eyes came into focus at the frightened face of your roommate, your memories had come back in bits and pieces. For an entire week, you and Debbie had barely done anything besides eat and sleep, too disoriented by the experience to do so much as speak to each other. You were both stuck in a fog, minds slowly sifting through technicolor shapes and artificial sounds and day after day after day...Just to reform your original sense of self. It felt like searching for toys in a sandbox; mental fingers combing and brushing and clawing through grainy bits of sand to recover what was truly yours.

By the time you and your former ragdoll of a roomie had returned to your true selves, the landlord was pounding at the door and shouting obscenities about missing persons and frozen bank accounts and rent that was two months overdue.

It had been an absolute shit show, returning to a normal human lifestyle. The first two things that had come to mind after the chaotic dust had settled was that you were thankful that Debbie had set up automatic payments with the apartment complex, and if her parents hadn’t reported her missing then your little apartment on the 7th floor would’ve remained unoccupied until her account was fully drained.

It was lucky then that you both had some money left to make up for missed payments and enough time to reassure loved ones and police that things were just fine - an impromptu trip to Italy had been your agreed-upon excuse, though “we ran off with the circus” had been used more than once as a joke for the nosier ones.

That didn’t mean things had been easy since then.

Another scary thought to cross your mind was the realization that, because you were both missing and your bank accounts were locked, it had been merely days before the eviction was passed. The notice was already taped to the door.

If you and Debbie hadn’t returned from the digital realm at that time, a judge would have signed off on the order. Men would’ve come. They would’ve cleared out everything: furniture, clothes, personal items.

The computer.

They would have unplugged the computer.

It would have been either scrapped or sold to make up for lost payments.

Would you have been able to return to the human world if that had happened?

Or would you and Caine still be enjoying flavorless cotton candy by a digital lake as Ragatha looked on, doomed to forever be the lonesome third wheel?

That alone is what had inspired you to create the group page. 

You had started it on whim. Nothing more than acting on an instinctual urge to reach out, to try and find everyone else. To try and make sure all the involuntary cast members of the Amazing Digital Circus had escaped to the real world safely and securely. After all, if it had been near hell just for you and Debbie to regain your lives, what was everyone else going through...if they had even made it through?

And so it was born.

The ‘Digital Friends’ Recovery Group. 

As per the description: A safe, healthy space for those formerly trapped in the world of computers and electronics. A support system for people who have escaped the eternal grip of video game addiction.

Not too conspicuous. Subtle, or so you hoped. Simple context clues would be sure not to tip off the wrong people.

Designing the page with blinding primary colors, toy motifs and clown pictures, however...

Eh, what the hell. You weren’t real good with this shit anyway.

Up until now, the only inquiries you had gotten were from real video game addicts looking for serious help. You tried testing them all with subtle hints - mentions of adventures, going to the circus, dropping the phrase ‘digital hallucinations’ once or twice - none of them knew what you were talking about. And so, you had directed them to a larger support page, kicked them from the group, and continued to hope and wait.

Part of you had already started to give up on the notion of finding anyone. After all, this wasn’t just a tiny digital landscape. The real world was full of billions . A handful of human beings, possibly scattered across the globe; Aside from your own roommate, you had a snowball’s chance in hell of coming across another surviving member. Part of you was even thinking about just deleting the damn thing and moving on with your life.

That was before Caine arrived.

You didn’t know why, but after that moment, any thought of quitting on your search had flown right out the window. Perhaps him showing up had filled you with some sense of hope. Perhaps you were just being naive. Either way, if a loony AI could magically appear in your living room as a flesh and blood human being, who's to say what was possible?

And now, you could feel that childlike sense of hope returning to you once again.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Hi! I saw this was a place for people with video game addictions?

Your index finger tap-tap-tapped lightly on the ‘Enter’ key, teasingly caressing the button without actually pushing it, as you swiveled back and forth in your seat. Behind you, you could hear Debbie say something to Caine, and after he gave a thoughtful hum they ventured towards the bathroom. Probably to give you some proper peace and quiet. You’d need it to get through these next few minutes.

It almost looked too good to be true, and there was still a chance that it was. However, from the look of this person’s profile page and their icon, you already had an inkling of who this might be. That red ribbon next to their username just seemed all too familiar to be a coincidence. 

Still, you had to be careful. It wasn’t just misguided web surfers you had to be careful of, after all.

You took a breath, and pressed down on the key.

Ballet_Sucks: Hello! It’s not so much for true addicts, but more of a recovery group for those who’ve gotten too into video games.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: ...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Well...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I got way too into a video game once. Does that count?

You bit your lip, fingers skimming along the surface of the computer desk, before the clicking of keys resumed.

Ballet_Sucks: That depends. 

Ballet_Sucks: How far engrossed in the game did you get and for how long?

It took a whole five minutes before this new group member responded.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Can I be honest with you?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I still don’t know for how long

xXMasuku-ChanXx: A few years , I think?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: It was like I was trapped and couldn’t get out

xXMasuku-ChanXx: No matter what I did. I was stuck. For years.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: And the funny thing is...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Nobody even noticed

You stared cow-eyed at the page, blinking in surprise at the sudden but rapid bombardment of messages that marched across the screen. It was like the floodgates had opened, scrawling up the page in a wall of pretty pink text.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Hehe...that’s funny, right?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: All my friends

xXMasuku-ChanXx: At least...they were supposed to be

xXMasuku-ChanXx: They...they didn’t even notice I was gone . I was gone and lost and they didn’t even care . They had all moved onto other things and I was left alone. Again. It...hurt. And it wasn’t any better in the video game, either! I was always being pushed around and bullied, by one player in particular. I tried to put on a happy face, every day. But I kept slipping or tripping or someone would push me and I just couldn’t keep it together! It felt like it didn’t matter. Like nothing mattered! 

xXMasuku-ChanXx:...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Like I didn’t matter.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I...I’m so tired of feeling this way...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I’m tired of hiding it all the time

The messages stopped coming, a brief reprieve from the stream of words that crawled along the private chat box. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, fingers trembling over the computer mouse. Just what were you supposed to say to that? Part of you had always known...could obviously see...but to see such downtrodden and sullen feelings actually written out in front of you...

Your opposite hand, shaky as it was, wiped at your cheek. Your fingers came back wet. When did you start crying?

Another message finally followed the rest.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I’m sorry.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Maybe this isn’t the right place for this.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: So sorry for venting

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I’ll...just exit the group.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Sorry

The clicking of the keyboard was rapid and loud as you sprung into action, fingers dancing faster than you expected them to.

Ballet_Sucks: Gangle

Ballet_Sucks: You ALWAYS mattered to us.

Ballet_Sucks: ALWAYS

Ballet_Sucks: And I am so sorry if we never showed you that enough.

You hoped the message made it through in time, not wanting to lose the one and possibly only chance of making a connection. There was no point in hiding anything - it was her, you were sure of it. And fuck if you didn’t make it clear just how much you had missed her, you and Debbie both.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: ...

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Pomni?

Ballet_Sucks: Prima

xXMasuku-ChanXx: oh my holy FUDGE OH MY GOODNESS AAAAAAAAAA

You were treated, nay rewarded , to wall after wall of heart emojis, pictures of hugging cats and cute little animated sprays of confetti that reminded you all too much of daring thrills and fun adventures. A broken laugh escaped you, though you knew she couldn’t hear it. A warm tear kissed the back of your hand as you forced yourself to continue typing, not willing to stall this conversation for even a second.

Ballet_Sucks: Actually, it’s Beth.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: My name’s Adelina! Though I like being called Misa.

Ballet_Sucks: Haha, well nice to meet you Misa.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: You too! Wow. I can’t believe it!

xXMasuku-ChanXx: It’s you! It’s actually you! Haha. Nice username, btw!

Ballet_Sucks: Haha, yeah. I do not miss that body.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Aw, but you were so pretty!

xXMasuku-ChanXx: And hey, at least you had a body!

Ballet_Sucks: Fair enough. Seriously, though, are you doing ok? Did you make it through alright? Are you in a safe place?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Ya! Turns out I’m still living with my Aunt Gracie

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I had to answer a few questions to the police, tho

That made you pause in the middle of a cheery reply. Your finger held down the delete button until your lighthearted words were no more.

Ballet_Sucks: Did you tell them about the Circus?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Well...I didn’t think they’d believe me, so I just told them I ran away.

Okay. Good. Gangle - Misa - wasn’t stupid. To be fair, she never was.

Ballet_Sucks: That’s good. I don’t want anyone causing us any trouble right now. Me and Debbie haven’t told a soul about our...adventures.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Debbie?

Ballet_Sucks: Lol. Turns out Ragatha was my roommate all along.

She proceeded to send you a picture of a cartoon kitten spewing out a geyser of milk.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: You’re kidding!

Ballet_Sucks: Nope lol. That’s actually how I got myself stuck.

Ballet_Sucks: She’d been missing for three weeks and left the headset plugged in. She had just brought the damn thing home when she disappeared and I was the dumbass who thought I’d play detective and see if it’d give me a clue as to where she’d gone.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Wow! So that whole time, you and her had no idea?

Ballet_Sucks: Nope. Not one fucking bit.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Could I maybe talk to her too?

Ballet_Sucks: Oh don’t worry, I promised her a turn right after this.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Thanks! What did you do with your headset?

Ballet_Sucks: Smashed it. Stomped it. An alleyway, some gasoline. Lit a match. Fucking Burn Baby Burn!

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Oh. Haha. I drowned mine. Then I buried it.

Ballet_Sucks: Yeah, good fucking riddance. So...these friends of yours...?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Oh...them?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: It was my fault, really.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: We met on this fan page for an anime I like. It's about this magic cat who's secretly

A pause.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Sorry I meant to delete that last part! 

xXMasuku-ChanXx: But yeah, we were all really close. I felt like I could share anything with them. I told them things I never even told my own aunt! I felt like I could trust them, like really trust them. But then I volunteered to test out that headset. When I came back, they'd all moved onto other things. I tried to reconnect with them, but they wanted nothing to do with me. Well, except one. But then they started asking me to do things that made me uncomfortable. I blocked them.

Ballet_Sucks: Shit, what were they wanting you to do?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: I really don't wanna talk about it, if that's okay?

Ballet_Sucks: Sure, you're fine.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Thanks. Maybe another time. It still hurts though. I thought they were my friends. But I guess I was wrong.

Ballet_Sucks: I'm...so sorry, Misa. 

xXMasuku-ChanXx: It's okay. I'm glad I could find you though. 

A sudden crash from the bathroom made you jump in your seat. Your head whipped around at the comically loud yelp that followed. Definitely Caine. Debbie had taken him to the bathroom for something, probably to show him how to brush his teeth. You really hoped he hadn’t already choked on his own toothbrush.

For a moment, you were glad that you had a roommate who worked at the hospital. Good ol’ Deb could probably perform the Heimlich in her sleep if she wanted to. And considering how accident-prone a humanized Caine was turning out to be, her talents were becoming more of a godsend by the hour. 

An aggravated noise echoed down the hall. That one was Debbie, you could tell. The second crash that reached your ears made you swivel back around to the computer.

Ballet_Sucks: Hey, I gtg. Duty calls. I’ll have Debbie log on in a few minutes so you can catch up, though.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Ok, sure! Thanks for letting me join, btw!

Ballet_Sucks: No problem!

Honestly, you felt a small sense of achievement, and maybe even just a little satisfaction. You did it, you actually found someone. All your work hadn’t been complete bullshit, after all! Happy to be leaving the conversation on a high note, your mouse hovered over the ‘Log Out’ button.

A brief line of text stopped you from clicking, though.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Btw...I’m really sorry about what happened with you and Caine. I know Jax liked to poke fun at your relationship, but I know it was real to you and that’s all that matters! I hope you don’t miss him too much...

Another dramatic shout came from the bathroom, followed by Debbie’s voice.

“Beth! Please get in here and deal with your boyfriend!”

You sighed. 

Ballet_Sucks: Don’t worry about it. Stay safe, okay?

And with that, you logged off and made your way down the hall.

“No, no, NO! I don’t NEED a shower! I am perfectly fine not taking one!”

“Caine, c’mon. It’s not all that bad.”

“ Oho yes it is! First the water’s freezing and then it’s boiling hot and t-then it’s shooting at my face and I won’t step in there ever again, Ragatha! You...you can’t make me!”

Deborah’s irritated, frustrated groan met your ears as she tried to step closer, only to jump back as another frantic swing of the toilet plunger nearly collided with her face. Her brows furrowed and her lips were set in a firm, annoyed frown. It was very rare that you got to see her like this. 

“Caine, please just come down...”

“No! I refuse!” He protested, swinging wide.

You flinched as a bar of deodorant and the toothbrushes went flying, along with other items on the sink. Something shattered. You chewed on your lip, eyes darting to Debbie’s balled fists and clenched teeth. 

Years of experience with difficult patients had given her the temper of a saint, something that had proven to be an invaluable asset whilst trapped in the circus. There was no doubt that her gentle demeanor, perseverance, and endless amounts of empathy had kept the dark, mangling grip of insanity at bay for several unwilling performers, yourself included. The former ragdoll had the kindness and calmness to soothe and relax anyone. It was truly a talent. 

And it was proving to be absolute shit in regards to the disheveled, former AI currently perched on the toilet seat, hissing at the both of you like a cornered stray cat.

The first time you and Debbie had tried to give Caine a shower was a pure catastrophe. It had been the night he appeared in your apartment, covered in tears and snot and sweat and Deb had offhandedly suggested getting him cleaned up. What a fucking nightmare that had been. The poor ringmaster had ended up having another meltdown, fully clothed and huddled in the corner of the tub as your roommate sponged him down, shuddering and sobbing as you rinsed whilst trying to ignore the knife digging into your heart.

This time around was proving to be no less of a pain in the ass.

Debbie had managed to wrestle Caine out of his vest and tie before his nerves got the better of him, the ball of pure chaotic energy that he was. She had no choice but to rip your attention from the computer to help calm the circus leader down. Instead you and her were now flanking him on both sides, dodging swings from Caine’s makeshift weapon as he fought to keep any and all hands squarely off his person. 

You groaned, hanging your head. He was behaving like a child. A silly, ridiculous, absolutely impossible child. It made your shoulders tense. You could already feel a headache coming on. Judging by the way Debbie was wincing, you were guessing she was already there. Caine held his chin high and loftily, as if he wasn’t clearly pouting like a supersized three year old. How he could go from an adorable, admittedly sexy goober to behaving like a spoiled brat, you’d never know.
Either way, you weren’t the only one about to lose their fucking mind.

Beside you, Deborah let out an irritated huff of air as she spoke through gritted teeth.

“Caine. I am losing my patience .”

“Well go find it then!” Caine protested, stubbornly stomping atop the porcelain throne. “We already had our sanitary escapade this week! Did I ever force you to repeat the same adventure more than once? Why, of course not! What kind of cheap entertainer do you take me for?” He crossed his arms, plunger still in hand, “I’m sure there are plenty of other aquatic adventures we could entertain your dear little minds with! ‘Washing the Ringmaster’ has already been done and I am not a one trick pony!” The toilet plunger bopped Debbie hard on her sandy-colored hair, “So get over it!”

Red flashed in your roommate's eyes.

“ Dammit , Caine!” And she was reaching, grabbing at Caine’s pant leg and jerking, “I have had a fourteen hour day today! My pay was cut and a three-year-old threw up on me! You will get in that shower if I have to drag you down and clobber you over the head!”

Caine screamed, arms flailing as Deborah’s unexpected strength caught him off-balance. You just barely avoided his free leg kicking as his butt hit the toilet seat with a crack . Another thing to add to the growing list of repair costs from the past few days.

This week was getting way too expensive. 

And it was only half over.

Caine grabbed the back of the tank in a wild panic, hanging on for dear life as he thrashed his tree-trunk legs like a clumsy newborn foal. The warrior of a nurse yanked and pulled and shook on his pant leg, a near snarl hanging on the edge of her lips as she tried to pry him free.

“P-Prima! Help me!”

“Let go, Caine!” Deb demanded, “Get. In. The. Tub!”

“Never!”

“Do it or the leg is coming off! ”

“Fine! I'll just make another one!”

“Caine you dumba -”

“Okay, okay, timeout!” Your quick hand intercepted the downward chop of the plunger, which Debbie had snatched away in the midst of the chaos. Perhaps you should have intervened a moment sooner, but you were too caught up watching the poor nurse negotiate with the ringmaster to think of moderating. Granted, that’s why Deborah had called for you in the first place, but...

Shaking your head, your fingers wrapped around the wooden handle, gently pulling the weapon from your roommate’s hand.

“Let’s just calm down for a moment.” Funny, that was usually her line. “I’m sure we can figure this out like grown adults.”

She huffed, gesturing, “Tell that to him. He’s nothing but a big baby, if you ask me.”

Caine sputtered, “I...you...the audacity!” He sprung up, back straight and arms stiff at his sides as he regarded Deborah incredulously. “ I’m not the one taking amusement out of torturing a poor, lost, traumatized ringmaster! After I treated you all so well, too!” He puffed out his chest, jabbing a finger at her, “Slaving away over coding and polygons, crafting entire worlds and fun, exciting adventures for your enjoyment? Keeping you humans satisfied was no easy feat, thank you very much. And this is the thanks I get?”

You froze, jaw hanging open. Your eyes darted between Debbie and Caine. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. For a minute, you considered the possibility that these two might literally try and kill each other.

Utter silence, and Debbie growled. Growled.

“Thanks? Thanks!? You self-centered, egotistical, arrogant little- ”

“No. No. No!” You pushed yourself in between their bodies, forcing them an arm's length apart. “We are not doing this right now. Not over a dumb shower. Both of you need to chill the fuck out!” 

This was getting way too heated. Perhaps that wasn’t the best sign, considering Caine now lived with you. You figured the household dynamic was gonna change, but not quite like this.

You stared them both down, giving the best ‘no bullshit’ glare you could muster. Granted, you were no powerlifter, but you weren’t exactly a dainty ballerina either. If things needed to get physical, you could and would wrestle these two apart with your bare hands. Debbie already knew that after seeing you go crazy once on a black friday sale. Caine, however...

Thankfully, he and Debbie broke eye contact, albeit reluctantly. Slowly, they stepped away from each other, both mumbling under their breath like a pair of scolded siblings. You ran your fingers through your hair, gripping the base of your scalp with one hand. This couldn’t be fucking real. The week wasn’t even half over and here you all were, acting like crappy actors on an even crappier reality TV show. Debbie was stressed, Caine was acting immature, and the both of them were ready to throw hands like children over something as stupidly simple as a shower.

Man, this week was nothing short of an emotional rollercoaster.

And it was biting you in the ass.

You probably deserved it, though.

Caine’s childish glower, though directed solely at the other woman, was challenged with your own tired, withered expression. You massaged your aching temple, fighting back the dull throbbing of a vein under your fingertips.

“Will you please, please take a shower, Caine?”

For a moment, you could see his resolve weaken. He stared at you, shoulders lowering merely a fraction before he shook his head, frowning. “Sorry, no can do, my bubbly buttercup! It just...I mean...you have to understand, my dear, it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Listen.” You breathed. In, out. “I know you’re a lot more sensitive now as a human, but you just can’t go without washing yourself. You’re a man now. Trust me, if you don’t shower at least once a day, you’re going to smell terrible .” 

“Once a day?” Caine parroted, “But...but that’s so repetitive! Monotonous, even! Why would anyone want to be stuck doing the same act over and over again? Especially when there’s all sorts of other activities you could be doing instead!” His lips curled enthusiastically, “Why, we could go deep-sea diving, or go-kart racing, or even take a rocketship to the moon! Whaddya say, ladies?” He spread his arms wide, his face beaming if not just a little uneasy, “Doesn’t that sound like a much better way to spend our evening?”

You had to admire his determination. However, he was going to have to try better than that.

“While those all sound just lovely,” If not impossibly expensive because capitalism , “You still need to get used to the idea of a normal, everyday routine.” You shrugged, waving a hand absentmindedly, “Human bodies aren’t exactly like digital avatars. We get dirty, we get smelly, and you need to keep yourself clean.” A coy smile tugged at your lips, “Besides, isn’t the ringmaster supposed to make a good first impression? What’s everyone gonna say when you go out looking like a second rate amateur?”

Caine nodded, rubbing a gloved hand along his chin, “Hm. You may have a point there, my dear.”

Sighing,you stepped forward, tilting your head just so that you met his mismatched eyes, “Besides, there’s more than one way to get clean. Perhaps... you’d be willing to try a bath instead?”

Caine blinked at you, “A...a bath?” 

You shrugged, back straightening, “Well, yeah. It’s like a shower, only the water fills the tub and-”

“Prima. I know what a bath is. Honestly, my dear,” Caine’s eyes met the ceiling, nose wrinkling as the light flickered back at him. “I had even indulged in one on occasion, back when I was merely a digital entity with an endless library of knowledge at my disposal,” He modestly explained, “That was only when I found free time on my hands, of course. Not all my hours were spent planning marvelous activities for you, you know.” He gave your cheek an affectionate pat, an amused simper playing at his lips, “True, a ringmaster’s work is never done, but I think I’d be entitled to a little me time every now and again.”

Debbie huffed from her place near the doorway. Clearly she wasn't going to offer much help, and perhaps you couldn't blame her. Getting Caine to do something he didn't want to was like pulling teeth. It had been damn near impossible in the digital circus, and even being the ‘ringmaster's favorite’ was no exception. You sure as hell tried, too, considering how badly you'd wanted to find a way out of that place. 

When you first arrived, you were so desperate to find an exit that not even seducing a computer program was beneath you. It was as scummy as it was pathetic. Only after endless amounts of sweet-talking and one or two or twenty dates had Caine finally taken your hands in his, regretfully admitted that he didn't actually know of any way to leave the circus, and confessed to you the newfound and utterly curious feelings he now possessed. For you and you alone.

And fuck it all, by then you were so completely and utterly captivated that you didn't even care to remember when it first began.

You still felt guilty about the way you'd used him, but maybe - just maybe - you could still use what you'd learned in the process.

Humming to yourself, your shoulder gently brushed Caine’s as you stepped around him, reaching for the bathroom caddy hanging above the toilet. His eyes followed your every move, brows furrowed as you quickly plucked up one of the colorful washcloths and a bottle of soap. Feigning disinterest, you examined the bottle in your hands. Not your favorite brand. Still, you avoided his curious gaze, eyes lazily focused on the soap’s impossible-to-read list of ingredients.

“Tell me, Caine, did you like taking digital baths?”

For a moment, Caine simply shrugged, rocking on his heels as he watched you suspiciously, “To be honest, my star, I would say it wasn't half-bad. Certainly not as wet as the water is here.” He chuckled, “That's the beauty of it, you see? Digital water is nothing more than shaders and some clever rendering on my part - couldn't even drown in it if you wanted to!”

“We did.”

“Deb, please...” You cast a look over your shoulder as the washcloth and soap was placed neatly on the edge of the tub. There was a fluttering in your ribcage, and you tried stifling it with a cough. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. In the bathroom. With your roommate watching. But Caine needed a bath, and right now he was an immovable object. You had to be the unstoppable force. And that called for...

...you not knocking the liquid soap into the tub like a complete and total dumbass. 

You quickly grabbed the bottle and its wayward cap, cringing as the scent of blueberries assaulted your nose. Disgusting, just like the sticky blue goop dripping down the side of your hand to join the pool in the middle of the empty bath.

Still bent over the tub, you shook your head, pounding the anticipation down with an iron fist. Get it to-fucking-gether, girl! You clutched at the rag and wiped your hand clean, and you mustered up enough courage to turn towards the ringmaster.

“You know...taking a bath isn’t as awful as you think,” A sweet and low whisper poured out of your lips, both to Caine’s surprise and your own, “A non-digital bath, that is. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed a nice, hot bath after a long day of work. Would you like to see how soothing it is? I’d be happy to show you...”

The new tone of voice caught Caine's attention immediately. Smooth, silky and dripping like honey. You had used that voice before, and by the surprised look on his face, he most certainly remembered.

The rocking ceased, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stammered. 

“W-well, I...”

“The water isn't too bad once you're used to it. Warm and calming and all too lovely.” A wink caused him to visibly flinch, “You really have no idea how relaxing it is, Caine. To just sit and soak, letting the heat melt the pain away from your aching muscles.” You stepped closer, “And especially after all you’ve been through, I think you deserve some you time tonight.”

Caine stepped back, “I...well, y-you see, my dear-”

“What's the matter, ringmaster? Afraid I won't like what I see?” 

Caine’s nose was just inches away from your own, puffing timid breaths of warm air across your face. His brows had disappeared into his hairline, seemingly frozen as his pupils fought to swallow the color in his eyes. You grinned. Sly hands found the center of his stomach, fingers splaying out along the crisp fabric of his shirt. His muscles were taut, nervous. Like a loaded spring ready to go off. 

For a moment, you allowed yourself to admire his torso. Wide, broad, not unlike the body he used to have. Briefly you wondered if he still liked it when...

Caine's breath hitched sharply as you ran your hands up towards his shoulders, pushing against the firmness of his torso with a pleased chuckle. He clammy hands gripped the sink for support. You breathed out a shaky laugh, breaking eye contact to keep your legs from giving out underneath you. 

Granted, it was pretty dirty and underhanded of you to be toying with him like this. But, after the past few days of being hugged and held and pressed against the wall and licked , you felt it was only fair that he started feeling a little flustered, too. It’s not like you weren’t shaking yourself right now.

You let your fingers dance along his shoulders, tapping their way up the sides of his neck. 

His ears turned a bright red, “S-Starlet...”

“Will you take a bath for me, Caine? It'll be worth it, I promise. I think I might even have a rubber ducky somewhere...” 

He swallowed, “I...”

“Please?”

You bat your eyelashes. Like a friggin’ school girl . You thought you heard Debbie snicker in the background. And then, you heard the sweet sound of Caine’s defeated sigh as his shoulders began to go slack beneath your fingertips. 

A sudden gust of air rushed out of you, followed by a lingering burn in your lungs. When did you stop breathing? You had no fucking idea, and yet you still had it in you to laugh at the scene. Caine’s hypnotized face, Deborah’s barely-muffled giggling, and the fact that you had draped yourself over the ringmaster like a fine linen...it was just like old times. 

You decided to give the big dork a break and stepped back, a wide smile betraying the quivering fingers still resting on his shoulders. You gave them a squeeze before gently smoothing out the front of his shirt. When you reached the top button, a quick pair of gloved hands snatched at your wrists.

“I...” Caine whimpered, the spell broken, “I can do it myself.” He coughed, looking away. “Ragatha showed me how.” 

You nodded, stepping back as he slowly popped his shirt buttons, one by one. That pesky pitter-pattering returned full force as you caught a glimpse of smooth, bare skin peeking out from underneath. He rolled off his shirt and you tore your gaze away, clambering for the stubborn knob on the tub.

“What’s the matter, Beth?” Deborah tittered, “Afraid you won’t like what you see?”

“Stuff it. ” You squeaked, holding your hand under the faucet, waiting for the water to heat up while your face cooled down.

Behind you came the clinking of a belt buckle, before Caine cleared his throat.

“Erm...ah, could you please...not look?”

“Not looking, not looking.” Your eyes shot up to the poorly-tiled ceiling just as you heard the sound of trousers dropping. Blood rushed to your face and you could swear there was thunder in your ears. 

Fuck, what the hell had you acting this way? It wasn’t like you’d never seen a man before!

“Oh, Be-eth!” Debbie teased.

“Not. Looking.” You snipped, though you knew she wasn’t, either.

She snorted, “You’re just adorable.”

You groaned, body rigid as you felt a hot body sneak behind you. Don’t look. Don’t you fucking look.

“Hahhhah- AH! ” Water sloshed around the tub as Caine yelped.

“Caine? Do you need help, hun?” This time it was Debbie who asked, the edge in her voice now gone.

“No! No! Ahah, it’s quite alright, I...ahem...I can do this!”

“Okay...” She murmured, “Just let us know when we can turn around.”

More splashing. 

“Just...just a moment, ladies. I think...alright-y, you can look now!”

Cautiously, ever so cautiously, you allowed yourself a brief glance.

The spilled bubble soap had already formed a nice, thick, blessedly modest lather of pillowy white that floated peacefully atop the steamy bathwater. It was a thankful barrier, shielding Debbie and yourself from any unnecessarily sinful sights. The potent aroma of blueberry and other unpleasant undertones itched at your nostrils, giving you the sudden urge to sneeze. You really needed to talk to Deb about buying less...pungent fragrances.

Caine now sat awkwardly in the bathtub, submerged enough for the fluffy layer of bubbles to cover all but his shoulders. His knees protruded out of the water like two big mountains in a swaying sea of frothy foam. Nothing else was visible, and you couldn’t be more grateful. His arms, bare and glistening with moisture, rested on both sides of the tub.

He was still wearing his gloves.

You weren’t going to pick at it, though. Caine was in the bath. He wasn’t wigging out. Mission accomplished.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you turned to Debbie while Caine allowed himself to sink lower into the bath. 

“Hey, I think our first official group member is still online. You go catch up, I’ll watch the baby.”

“Awfully rude of you, Prima.” You heard from behind.

Debbie rolled her eyes, clapping your shoulder once before she disappeared down the hallway. 

You could only shake your head, a nasty habit of being around the infamous ringmaster for too long, who said nothing as you plopped your butt on the bathroom floor. The side of the tub felt cool, if not a little wet. It slowly sapped the heat from under the crook of your arm, sending a chill up your spine. You propped your elbow on the edge as you sat opposite of Caine, letting the calm and tired lull to slowly wash over your body.

“Here,” A flick of your wrist and the washcloth hit his chest with a wet smack , “Scrub-a-dub, mister.”

He looked at you, scowled, then grabbed the soggy rag. It squelched in his hand as he ran it down his front. His eyes met yours briefly, but his frown only deepened and he sharply turned his head with a huff.

“Hmph. Temptress.” 

You ignored the accusation, “Pretty hard, isn’t it?”

“Taking a bath?”

“Being a human.”

“Oh.” His fingers tapped along the yellowed enamel, just centimeters away from yours, “Perhaps a little...but my dear, dear little star! Your beloved ringmaster may be shaken, but he is far from calling it quits! The show must go on, after all!” His hand twisted in the air once, twice, “Granted, this humble artiste has a lot to learn from this vast, non-digital landscape. Walking everywhere will certainly take some getting used to.” His gloved hand came down to rest atop yours. Two gentle fingers stroked circles into your skin. “But...you’re here, my dazzling dancer. And what is a ringmaster without his amazing assistant? There’s no obstacle we can’t overcome, no plot twist too sudden!”

“Yeah. Right.” A tingle went up your arm as he traced one of your veins, “We still need to talk about that, by the way. You...me...”

“Well, we’ve certainly gone on and on and on about me.” He chuckled, “And while certainly I don’t mind being center-stage, I’m much more interested in you .” 

The bubbles rolled in a gentle wave as Caine leaned closer.

“So tell me, Prima, what has my leading lady been doing all this time?” Nimble fingers danced along your wrist, “Have you captured the minds and hearts of the world with your grace and poise? Enchanting crowds of adoring fans with your breathtaking talent?”

“No. Hell no.” You laughed. Caine looked terribly offended. “Sorry Caine, but you wouldn't catch me dead on a stage. I'm not a performer and I don't want to be.”

“Hm. Then what do you do out here in the real world?”

You shrugged, “Most days? I wake up, go to work, come home, eat, and go to bed.”

“But that's so...so bland. Soulless, even!” Caine sat up straighter, the washcloth disappearing into the bath with a plunk , “Whatever happened to my eager little muse? You used to have so much enthusiasm for all things fun and variety! What changed?”

Life bit me in the ass? “I...couldn't really say, Caine.” A light-hearted smile tugged at your upper lip, “Though I have to admit, things have definitely livened up since you got here.”

"And in the nick of time, too!” He beamed, “From the look of things, you and Ragatha are just dying for a dose of zany tomfoolery, which I am more than happy to provide!”

“Oh jeez, I haven’t even thought of what I’m going to tell Misa.”

“Come again?”

“Oh, Misa. She, well,” You bent a knee up towards your chest, “Ever since we escaped, er, returned to the real world, I wanted to see if we could find the others. Make sure they’re still alive, y’know? Getting back on our feet was chaos for me and Deb. I can only imagine how hard it’s been for everyone else. So I set up a group page on the internet.”

“The inter-what?”

“Nevermind,” There was a painful twinge at your temple at the thought of explaining the world wide web to the former AI. Best to save it for a day when you were less sober. “Think of it as a community hub where people can write to each other. I made something to try and attract anyone who had been in the circus and, well, we just found Gangle.”

“Aha! So that’s what you were doing on the computer!” Caine slapped his knee, “I was wondering what had captured your attention so abruptly. And what a noble mantle you’ve taken up, my sweet! Truly, your limitless compassion and heroic heart astound me to no end!”

“It’s nothing special, Caine.”

“I disagree!” Both gloves hands, soggy and wet, suddenly covered your own, “Why, taking the initiative to make sure everyone from our digital wonderland made it home safe and sound? How utterly selfless, my Starlet!”

“Heh, thanks.”

Caine flashed you one of his more charming smiles, once again focusing back to the hand clasped in his own. There was a strange sense of tranquility that swept over you as the ringmaster continued to admire your arm with a listless fascination. Your head felt heavy and you allowed it to rest against your arm, watching silently as his gloved hands started their way up your forearm, sending a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

His lidded eyes twinkled at the unexpected response, “So, my angelic adventurer, that would be one down and...four circus members to go?”

“Three actually,” You muttered into your skin, “We found Kinger two weeks ago.”

“Fantastic, my dear! And how is the ol’ chattering chess piece?” 

“No idea.” You admitted flatly, “It was hidden on page three of a newspaper - Debbie likes to look at the funny pages - turns out he used to be the CEO of C and A enterprises. One of its founders, actually.” Caine’s brows knitted in confusion. “ Video Game Pioneer Returns After Mysterious Disappearance, Retakes Control from Long-Term Interim ,” You recalled, “Kinger, er, Mr. Kingsleigh...it was all him. Everything. The Digital Circus, us being trapped there, you ...” You huffed out a tired sigh, “The article didn’t go into detail but... he’s the reason we all got stuck there in the first place. He’s the game’s creator.”

Caine fell unusually silent. He removed his hands from your arm, leaving you feeling damp and  cold. They fell into the water at his sides as he stared blankly into his knees.

“So you’re saying Kinger is...my god? ”

“No.” You said quickly, head snapping up, “I mean... fuck , you’re human now. Mr. Kingsleigh - those people - have no say in who you are or what you do now.”

He looked at you again, “And you haven’t tried talking to him using the inter-whatzahoozit?”

“Can’t take the risk,” You shook your head as his hand found yours again, glove now fully saturated with blueberry soap-water, “I know in the circus Kinger was...Kinger. But who knows how much of that was from the game scrambling his mind. For all we know Mr. Kingsleigh is a giant corporate asshole who would sooner shove us into another game to make loads of tax-deductible cash.”

“I see,” Caine nodded in apparent understanding, before he suddenly lifted your hand with his own. He pressed them together, palm to palm, like a collective prayer, before he laced your fingers together with a contented simper. “Well, for now, let’s enjoy the rest of this lovely evening, my dear Prima.”

His gloves were soaked. Debbie would need to change the bandages underneath.

Still, you didn’t stop him or pull away. Instead you hummed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“How’s the bath?”

“Better now,” He sighed, leaning back a fraction.

“Ready to get out yet?”

“Mm, in a moment,” He pulled your joined hands closer to his face, pressing the back of your hand against his cheek as his eyes drifted shut, “I must admit, I do enjoy this avatar of yours much better. Not that you weren’t remarkably bewitching before, but this body of yours is...warm. Very soft.”

“Better than a figurine?” You mused. He bobbed his head enthusiastically, giving your hand a tight squeeze before he untangled his fingers from yours. Your knees protested as your stiff body rose from the cold bathroom floor. “Why don’t you dry off and I’ll go get those pajamas we bought you?”

“Ooh, the ones with the kittens on them?”

The childish glee in his voice pulled a laugh out of your throat before you could stop it. You handed him a towel and headed for the hallway, pretending not to notice the wistful expression that followed you out the door.

Debbie nearly collided with you as you turned the corner into the living area, almost immediately turning away to wipe at her flushed face. She tucked her hair behind an ear before turning back to you. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks pink and still damp with shed tears.

You leaned against the wall, “So how’s Misa?”

“Good, she’s doing well.” She sniffled, “We...had a lot to talk about. It was nice catching up, though.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Your eyes briefly glanced over at the new computer, “At least she’s in a safe place.”

Debbie nodded, wiping under her eyes again. “She deserves to be.”

She mimicked your position on the wall as your eyes drifted to your feet.

“So you...had a pay cut?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Her eyes met the wall beside your head, “We’ve been having some staffing issues. Budget cuts. Didn’t get as many grants as we were hoping,” Her eyes met yours and you instantly recognized the reassuring smile she forced on her face, “But I don’t think it’s anything to get anxious about! I already did the math and we can still make all our payments so long as we watch our budget.” 

“I’ll try to get some extra hours here and there. But...you know...Caine...”

“Oh don’t worry about that, hun.” A gentle hand found your shoulder and squeezed, “He needs you right now, I understand that.”

“He needs us both.” You countered, crossing your arms, eyelids starting to feel heavy. Soon you’d have to decide between another cup of coffee or blissful sleep on the cramped couch. “I really couldn’t get through this shit without you, Deb. Caine’s a handful right now, and I have no idea what the future has in store for the three of us, but...thanks. For everything.”

Debbie sniffed again, wiping at her face once more, “T-thanks, Beth. You know, despite everything...I...I think we’ll be okay.”

Caine called you from the bathroom, and you couldn’t help but offer your roommate a warm, hopeful smile.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah. We’re gonna be okay.”

Chapter Text

There was nothing quite like the feeling of a warm, soothing, cinnamony-sweet cup of coffee, best enjoyed in the soft break of morning before the first light of dawn peaked over the skylight.

This was a peaceful type of morning. Quiet, still, where the bustling and chaos of the Brooklyn night-shift crept away into a silent and exhausted slumber. The time of morning when everything was at peace, and you were more than thankful for it. The cool tranquility these gentle hours offered had a way of making you feel suspended in time, safe in a little bubble where it could just be you, alone with your thoughts.

Mornings like this had been non-existent in the circus. 

You took another relaxed sip from your mug, the bittersweet drink sending a wave of cozy warmth throughout your body, chasing away the chill of the apartment air. You really should talk to the landlord about fixing the heating unit. Falltime was just around the corner, and a 7th story apartment during a New York winter was near cold enough to freeze a penguin’s ass off. 

You’d get around to it. Eventually.

Or you could just use Caine as your own personal heater.

The briefest vision of two bodies staving off the cold, snuggled close under a swaddle of plush and mismatched comforters flashed across your mind’s eye. A vision you would normally push away at any other point in time, and yet...just for the tiniest moment, you allowed the fleeting thought to linger. Just for a moment.

A freezing December night, the snowstorm of the century howling outside the frosty apartment window. 

A pair of gloved hands running up and down your back in a noble effort to keep you warm. 

Legs locked together and wrapped tight in a cocoon of blankets. 

The power grid would go out; it always did during a blizzard. You’d wrap your arms around his hips, snickering at the way he’d squirm and complain about your icy hands as they snuck their way under his shirt. Warm breaths visible in the chilly air as you explained winters and snow and the cold and why you shouldn’t lick a frozen lamp post. He’d listen to you intently, and you’d cuddle closer into his chest to listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. You’d ask him what he’d want for his first real Christmas.

Would he ask to go back to the circus?

“Gahdammit!” Came the hissed curse as pain shot through your left foot. That damn corner of the kitchen wall. Every. Time. 

You really needed to start wearing slippers indoors.

You also needed to start acting less like a hormonally-charged teenager, but first there was spilt java to clean up. 

Setting your empty mug in the kitchen sink, you unrolled a wasteful amount of paper towel and tore it off with a frustrated swipe of your hand. 

“Great. Just great. You’re really handling this well, aren’tcha?” You muttered, stooping down to wipe at the old vinyl flooring, “Just can’t let it go, can you? Gotta keep rehashing... this . Can’t just fucking move forward with life, nooo! After all, that would be the grown up thing to do! But no, you get to keep having a big-ass guilt trip over your virtual ex-boyfriend who you never really broke up with who shouldn’t even be here and...”

The paper towel was all but shredded under your hand, and now there was a bright clean spot that stood out against the rest of the stained kitchen floor. You huffed, sitting back on your haunches, shoulders slumped forward, and numbly tossed the wadded paper towel away.

“And even if he wanted to go back, I...don’t know how."

From down the short hallway, the sound of your bedroom door swinging open broke through your inner tirade. A low, jovial humming filled the air as the subject in question paraded around the corner, greeting you with a twinkle in his eye and a grand wave of his arm.

“Good morning, my graceful guavaberry!”

“Caine. Pants.”

“Oop! One moment,” He zipped back down the hall, returning with a brilliant grin after only a few minutes, “There we go! All properly appareled and ready for the day!”

He smoothed down the front of his satin vest - sage, today - and briefly adjusted his bow tie.

“Morning,” A yawn escaped you as you stood, your hunched back aching in protest. The sudden urge to stretch hit you like a train, arms reaching overhead and behind to scratch at your scalp. Pleasure shot up your spine as your back arched, muscles slowly loosening as you let out a sated moan. All at once your body relaxed, feeling so much looser, and you smiled warmly. “Ready for some breakfast?”

The ringmaster blinked once, eyebrows shot up in surprise. He opened his mouth as if to say something before suddenly freezing. You quickly noticed the distant look glazing over his eyes which...definitely weren’t focused on your face. In a swift motion, you jabbed him in the chest, glaring at him with a deep frown. He jumped, as if pulled out of a trance.

“Sorry, my dear! I...uh...what was it you wanted?”

You crossed your arms, “I wanted to know if you wanted food.”

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, “I...yes, please...”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Caine’s dumbstruck face, the way his pupils dilated as he gingerly nudged past you, trying to rub away the pinkness in his cheeks with both hands as you both made your way into the kitchen. He slid into his usual seat, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap, his odd-colored eyes now trying their very best to look anywhere else in the room but you. He let out a shallow breath as you took the seat at his right, offering up a bowl of his favorite sugary cereal.

“You know I have work today, right?”

“Ah, yes. That.” Caine swirled his spoon around the edge of the bowl, eyes boring into the colorful breakfast, “I can’t say that I didn’t wish you’d stay, Prima.” He finally made eye contact with you, smiling hopefully, “Maybe we could do something about those pesky bills you keep complaining about, then you and I could enjoy all this world has to offer! I could even try my hand at crafting little adventures for us all to embark on! I know I don’t have admin permissions anymore, but...perhaps I could whip something up?”

“Caine, it’s not possible,” You explained, “Debbie and I have to keep our jobs to pay rent, not to mention putting food on the table. We nearly lost everything to begin with. It’s hard to say why, but human life is...tough.”

He looked away, scowling around a mouthful of froot loops. His gloved hands tapped repeatedly on the table.

But he quickly shook off the sour expression, turning back to you with a softer look.

“Should I get a job?”

“I-you...I don’t...” You thought of the right words to say, “I don’t think you...could right now, Caine.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because...you don’t even exist.”

“I don’t?!”

“No! No, you do. That’s just not what I meant,” You bit your lip, “To get a job, you would need documents - papers that prove you’re a real person.”

Caine’s brows furrowed, “Am I a real person?”

You shrugged, “As far as I can tell. I mean, to me and Debbie you’re as real as reality gets.”

He beamed, “Why thank you, my delightful danish! And might I say, your realness is tantalizingly real to me, as well!”

“I...thank you?”

“Now, about these papers...”

You nodded, “Right. Every human who’s born gets them. Well, in this country, anyway. Birth certificate, social security card, et cetera. Everybody needs them. Especially if you want to do things like get a job or own anything of value.”

Caine hummed in thought, “I see. And as I was never technically born, I wouldn’t come with those special documents.” He rubbed at his chin with a gloved hand, “Maybe we could find an early draft of my source code! Do you think that would be of any help?”

“Not even remotely.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry about it,” You tried to ignore his positively smitten face when you squeezed his arm reassuringly, “We’ll find a way to get you what you need. It might take some time, and headache pills, but soon enough you’ll have everything any other human does!”

“Ooh, even a house on a hill? A white picket fence?”

“Okay, most humans don’t have that.” 

“But we could!”

“Ahah, right,” You were more than thankful for the sudden beeping of your ringtone. Even with the naive mirth and joy of the ringmaster’s wishful thinking, you just didn’t have the heart to crush all of his dreams just yet. In a way, you hoped they never did. The real world could be such a cruel place, and if it ever succeeded in eating away at Caine’s spirits, well...

You might just seriously punch a bitch.

Speaking of, your ride was now waiting in front of the apartment complex. And while you shuddered at the thought of her perfectly shitty parallel parking, you weren’t about to make her wait any longer.

“Tiffany’s here. I gotta get going.” Caine frowned with disappointment as you made to stand, “Do you have the cell phone me and Debbie bought you?”

“Right here, my pickled princess!” He whipped out the phone, holding it out for you to see, “It’s no wacky watch, but I’m sure it will still come in handy!”

“Okay, good. Both Deb and my numbers are already in there. If you need anything, anything, just text me. Do not call, my boss hates that.”

“Can do, darling!”

You nodded with a half-smile, then quickly gathered your things. Keys. Purse. Shoes. Jacket. And you were making your way to the front door.

“Prima?”

You whipped around, hand stilling on the doorknob in response to the gentle tap to your shoulder. Caine was close, incredibly close. Close enough for you to see the meek tenderness in his eyes. His brows rose in concern and a sweet smile played on his lips. You blinked once, twice. The slightly rushed feeling suddenly loosed its grip around your heart, draining down your legs and out through your toes. You were almost embarrassed by the prospect of the ex-AI suddenly looking down to see the inky black puddle that had certainly formed around your sneakers. 

Slowly, he clasped both of your hands - why the hell were they shaking? - in his own, bringing them up to press flat into the center of his chest, right over his heart. 

“You...you will come back, won’t you, Starlet?”

“Caine,” You laughed, the air whistling past your quivering lips, “Of course I will. I live here.”

He leaned forward, “Promise?”

You nodded, “Promise.”

“Splendid!” And suddenly there was space and you could breathe again. “Have a magnificent day at work then, my sweet,” He gave your nose an affectionate poke, “Keep that cute little nose of yours to the grindstone, climb that company ladder, and remember: the customer is always right!”

“Uh, sure, Caine.” You waved, “Have a good day.”

“And you have a fun day, dearest!” He opened the door for you, shooing you into the hall, “Take care, Prima! Love you!”

“Thanks, you too.”

The door slammed shut and the lock clicked, but you didn’t miss the high-pitched squeal of Caine’s giddy laughter from the other side. For a moment you stood in the hallway, confused, before you slapped your forehead with a groan.

“Oh, goddammit.”

“Okay, I got an Irish cream cold brew and a hazelnut chai for...Nina?”

“Eva, and did you make that with oat milk?”

“Did you order oat milk?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s oat milk.”

No matter what Caine, your boss, or anyone else in the corporate sector ever said, the customer was not always right, and whoever invented that piss awful phrase deserved to spend the rest of purgatory behind the register of a fast food restaurant during lunch hour.

Thankfully, that wasn’t your sad reality. At least, not yet.

Your eyes scanned the clock that hung just above the clear glass windows. Ten-fifteen - you still had time to wipe down the machines before the bodies from City Point started pouring in. Why those bureaucratic assholes decided to trudge into this homely little shop on the corner when the commercial complex had several of its own, you’d never know.

“It’s because these suits here, they know quality when they taste it!” Your boss, Bill, had once boasted, “Sure, you get a sack of beans and a two-bit brewer and you can sell ‘em joe for fifteen bucks a pop. They’re tired, they’re busy, and they ain’t gonna complain. I almost feel sorry for most folks around here. Bled dry, if you ask me. But! It takes a special kinda magic to make an ordinary cup a’ coffee into something that gives back for a change! All it takes is a little heart, a little oomph! A little squeezing yourself into each and every drop. When we give ‘em a cup of coffee, we’re giving them life! And that’s why they keep coming back!”

So here you were, making ten-forty an hour as business tycoons slowly drained you of your soul.

Though the atmosphere was fairly pleasant.

Anyone wandering into the shop for the first time would describe it as warm. Cozy. Not unlike most cafes littering the streets of New York. The chipped brick walls, dark oak tables, and worn metal stools seemed to glow under the amber incandescent lamps, especially in the later hours of the day. It was the picture of rustic modernism, a classy mashup of the old and new. One could walk in with a book, order a muffin, and lose themselves in the charming ambience.

Then there were the nice coffee smells you'd become completely noseblind too. That was neat.

You could do without all the rusty antiques, though. They were really starting to getting in the way.

A loud screech rang through the air as you shoved away an ancient, cast iron coffee grinder with your shoulder, giving you enough open counter space to plate three cups on a tray.

You huffed. 

Weigh the grounds, press, set in the machine. Pour the milk - skim this time. Heat the milk, froth the milk. Grab the cups. Two pumps caramel for one, chocolate in the others. Pour the coffee, pour the milk. Saucers, spoon, tray.

“I've got three cappuccinos, table four!”

“On it, Beth!”

Tiffany was quick to whisk the tray away from your outstretched hands, not so much as spilling a drop as she danced her way across the floor to the booth by the farthest window. 

There was a buzzing in your back pocket. Maybe Deborah had an emergency?

You scanned the area, making sure no one was watching before you checked your phone.

Oh joy. Caine had figured out texting.

'Pri’

Well, perhaps not perfectly.

A second message quickly followed the first, however.

'Sorry, lo ! Huma umbs too big. ! But ns! Zo'

“Excuse me? Miss? Can I order sometime today, please?”

“Right, sorry! Sorry.” You shoved the phone back in your pocket, darting to the register as you called over your shoulder, “Louis? Can I get some help out front?” Only silence came from the washroom, “Uh, Louis? Hello?”

The sound of glass shattering was immediately followed by a string of profanity. A streak of green flashed in the corner of your vision, a younger man heading straight for the rack of flavorful pastries sitting atop the end of the counter. The gentle lilt in his voice was like the sound of ringing bells, melodic even as he spewed complaint after complaint on how everyone loved to pick on the rookie. He had been hired exactly a week after you.

“I heard something break back there.” You gave Louis a side eye glance as you skirted around to the juice machine, “You’re lucky Bill’s out for a 'meeting’, or we all would’ve had it.”

“Fuck’s sake, it was just one cup. Get off my ass.”

“Just looking out for you, dude.” You grabbed a paper cup from the rack, “Did you at least clean it up?”

“Ugh, yes mother.” 

“Good,” Venti cup. Unsweetened ice tea, a shot of honey. Plastic lid. “Hey, can I get two raspberry turnovers and a bear claw?”

“Sure,” Metal tongs clicked in your ear, and you reached out behind you as a little brown baggie was plopped into your hand. You heard him give a low whine, “I dunno why I’m always the one getting pegged for everything around here. It’s not like I’m the worst of this bunch, anyways.”

“Well, true. Though you are a bit of a butterfingers.”

“You would be too if you had these hands!”

You turned to face him, offering a sympathetic smile as you passed. Indeed, Louis was a bit on the clumsy side, but anyone would be if they looked like they’d been run through an old clothes wringer. He wasn’t incredibly tall, about six-foot-two if one was being generous, but combined with a feathery torso, sinewy limbs, and hands that would be better suited as baseball mitts, grace was downright alien to him.

In his defense, he was very good at reaching that pesky top shelf, which you made sure to thank him for as he handed you a fresh bag of cocoa powder.

Your back pocket buzzed again. 

You checked your phone.

'I think I’ve got the hang of this now! At least I think so! Am I doing this right, Prima?’

You rolled your eyes, texting him a quick, ‘Yes. Working,' before spearing a fluffy mound of whipped cream with a cinnamon stick.

“Hot chocolate for Andrew!” You set the mug on the counter, not really caring who came and got it. Your phone buzzed again.

‘Fantastic! I hope you’re having a wonderful time! I'm just swell, by the way!’

‘OOH! Prima! This cell phone has cute little stickers! See??’

An ongoing bombardment of outdated emojis was enough to make you silence your phone, something that you probably should've done in the first place if you weren't so worried about your new roommate’s safety. The constant vibrating from your back pocket had already earned you some suspicious glares, but that was nothing compared to the threat of getting fired on your first day back from work.

“Beth! Look alive, chicky, we've got incoming!”

Tiffany's warning was all you were given as hordes of dead-eyed men and women trudged in, at least a dozen at a time. Your jaw dropped. Shit , there must’ve been twenty people waiting in line to start with! And the lunch hour had just started! Just what the hell...?

“I just got a text from my partner,” Louis shouted over the growing din, “Health inspector shut down one of the cafes at City Point. Their regulars are coming our way!”

Son of a bitch.

“I need to-go cups at the ready!” You tried not to sideswipe your coworker as you raced to the stack of drink carriers, “Louis, can you man the pastries and the milk frother?”

“You got it!”

“Tiff! Keep the traffic smooth and the tables clean,” You barked, “Don’t worry about it being spotless, this is survival mode!”

The young woman grinned, saluting with two fingers, “Aye, cap’n!”

The next hour was a complete and total blur. Faces started to blend together, words not involving coffee or food orders faded into meaningless garble. Tickets were printed and hung, printed and hung, only to be processed at a snail’s pace. You darted between the cappuccino maker, the espresso machine, the syrups, the garnishes, until you were sure your head was spinning. The shrieking of the coffee grinder clawed at your eardrums as you resupplied the tub of grounds again. And again. And again.

Louis wasn’t faring much better, baking and restocking flaky confectionaries in an almost robotic fashion. Muffins and croissants and scones flew off the shelves faster and faster, and for a moment you were worried about the tiny oven keeling over. You watched him bite the inside of his cheek, pulling at his mossy bangs as he juggled between baking the goods while still managing to froth seven different types of milk for one. Single. Order. 

Tiffany was just peachy, of course. As much as you hated to admit it, her skills as a passionate extrovert quickly became the cafe’s saving grace. As you and Louis scuttled to survive at the counter, Tiff twirled around the dining floor as if it were a grand stage. She captured incoming patrons with a charming smile and a wiggle of her fingers, sorting the wheat from the chaff as she led some to tables while others placed their carryout orders with you.

Another customer approached the counter to complain. Something about wanting three pumps of caramel in their drink when there was  clearly only one. 

“Seriously, I can barely taste it!”

You grit your teeth, and buckled down, eyes focused on getting to the end of the mission. Ignore the stupidity, drown out the drama, just finish the shift. You could do this.

Time seemed to drag on, even as the clock’s hands waned past the twelve mark. A worried glance was exchanged between you and your comrades in arms, not a word exchanged as you worked the bustling crowd. Falling into a rhythm you’d all experienced many times before.

Even as your hands worked diligently to keep the caffeine flowing, your mind started to drift to home. An anxious voice tapped away at the back of your skull. You sincerely hoped all was well at the apartment. That Caine had found a way to keep himself occupied. 

Eating soap. Playing with knives. Starting a kitchen fire. 

“AH! Shit!” You recoiled with a hiss at the burning pain under your fingers, “Fuck, fuuuck!”

“Rookie mistake,” Louis noted flatly. He was right, though. Only an idiot would try and grab a hot carafe with both hands. 

It hurt like hell and you wanted to kick someone’s ass for it. But you quickly pounded instinct down. The palms of your hands stung. They felt raw. 

“Crap, I’m taking five. I need some ice.”

You didn’t wait for Louis’s reply, legs carrying you quickly to the supply room before he or Tiffany could protest. 

For a moment, you had a chance to think clearly. The large burlap sacks of coffee beans did wonders in muffling the pandemonium of the coffee shop. An empty crate in the corner was your momentary refuge. You sat down, took a breath, held it, and slowly let it out.

Crap, just how the hell were you supposed to get through this? Your neck felt warm and a little sweaty, your temple ached with a dull pain akin to someone taking a drill to the side of your skull. The coarse apron you were wearing felt stuffy and tight, and you slowly reached around to undo the knot from behind.

The tenderness in your hands was fading. You uncurled your fingers, inspecting the damage with a close eye. The center of your palms were bright pink, but they lacked the blistering and the peeling skin indicative of more severe burns. You’d live. If your coworkers didn’t kill you, that is.

Despite the fact that you’d just abandoned them to the wolves, you couldn’t help but give into the nagging voice that urged you, begged you to check your cell phone. Even if you and Caine were...whatever, this was still the first time you’d left him home alone. Heck, this is the first time he’s ever been by himself before, if you counted all the NPCs he surrounded himself with. You truly had no idea how he was going to cope. What kind of madness was in store for when you finally came home?

Though there was still the very real chance of this shift putting you in your grave before then anyway.

Still, might be a good idea to check how Caine was handling things. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad.

You pulled out your phone. 27 messages. 

Damn.

Please don’t be life threatening, for the love of everything good in this world.

As you scrolled through the messages, you quickly discovered two things. One, Caine hadn’t horrifically maimed himself. Two, you should never have given him a cell phone. 

The first half of the messages he sent you was nothing but an endless wall of random emojis. A ten year old kid’s texts would’ve been less obnoxious. Little yellow faces slowly turned into an army of kittens and puppies, before giving way to multicolored hearts and flowers. Oddly enough, he seemed to have a preference for the color purple.

You scrolled down, overjoyed to finally see actual English.

'Ha ha! Did you like my colorful little combos, Prima? It warms my heart to know I can still send you digital flowers!’

‘I am glad to report that everything is safe and sound at home! No vandals, burglaries, or other natural disasters to speak of! All is quiet!’

'Very quiet.’

You sighed through your nose, crossing one ankle behind the other as your thumb swiped along the screen. The more you scrolled, the more apparent it was that Caine was developing an intense case of cabin fever.

‘Starlet! Did you know that froot loops contain only a hundred measly calories per serving? How nauseatingly nutritious! I regret to inform you that we are now completely out of cereal.’

‘I just found a very interesting program on tv! Did you know that placing raw lemons on your feet at night can help you lose weight?’

'Prima! I saw a bird outside the window!’

And why wouldn’t he? After all, he was practically a god of the digital domain you and so many others had been confined to. The world had been at his fingertips; from horizon to artificial horizon he was boundless. Limitless, save for a few pesky censors. But now what did he have? A tiny two bedroom apartment? Television? Cereal? What kind of miserable life was that?

‘I took a few walks around our humble little abode, and I may be seeing a remodel in the future!’

'Think about it: satin curtains, bean bag chairs, a decorative sculpture here and there! Just a splash of color and whimsy to liven the place up!’

'Wouldn’t that be just riveting?’

...It was your miserable life.

'Prima?’

'I tried counting my teeth in the mirror. I think I have more now than I used to.'

‘I also found that we have twelve spoons, six forks, but only three butter knives in the kitchen drawer.’

Was it just your imagination, or had the noise from their lively new clientele died down a little? Perhaps Tiff and Louis had a handle on everything. Besides, this was hardly their first time dealing with a full house of customers, and it would be a good idea to check up on Caine. Just to be positive that he hadn't lost his mind.

Oh what the hell, one measly phone call wouldn't hurt. 

You dialed the number and pressed the phone gently to your cheek, listening to it ring once, twice.

“Greetings! You've reached the Amazing Non-Digital Penthouse, Caine speaking!”

Well, he wasn’t dead. 

“Hey.”

“Prima! What a pleasant surprise, I truly was not expecting your call!” He sounded happy - relieved, even - though you didn’t miss the slight edge in his joyful greeting. For a moment there was static; he must've moved to another room, “What can I do you for, my star?”

“You miss having Bubble around, don't you?”

“Pshh! Ha!” His voice, loud and confident, boomed in your ear at the blunt accusation, “My word, that's funny. Gut-busting, even! You're quite the card, you know that, cupcake?”

You shrugged, eyes staring off into nowhere, “Well, it just seems that you're a bit...I'unno, antsy? From not having anyone to talk to while we're gone.”

“Oh, you sweet springtime sunflower.” He chuckled warmly, “I was made to learn and adapt to these sorts of things! How could I miss any of my old subroutines when I have such fun, exciting new activities to do? I can stack soup cans, count floor tiles, or even alphabetize the towel rack! Truly, I'm having the time of my life!”

“So, you're not feeling stir crazy?” You prodded, “Not even a little?”

He was hesitant to answer, “Aheh, well, now that you mention it...” 

“I knew it.”

“Well, you try being cooped up like this!” He snapped like a spring-loaded piston. There was a whoosh on the other end, followed by the loud squeaking of springs. Ah, Caine must’ve been in your bedroom, on your bed. You could imagine him spread out on the blanets, flat as a starfish with his forearm draped dramatically over his forehead. “Only half the day's gone by and I already feel like it's been an eternity. At least you have something to do with your time.”

“Like watching you blow up my phone while I'm working?”

“Prima, I'm bored!” Caine whined, “This isn't easy for me, I'll have you know! I can't just conjure up entertainment on a whim, not anymore, and while the apartment is...quaint, my brain is just fizzing with so much inspiration! I need enrichment! Something to do! Something to truly get my simmering synapses soaring!”

“I would gladly switch places with you if I could, believe me,” You responded flatly.

“But I thought I couldn’t work without all those important documents you were telling me abo- oh! Wait a minute,” His voice dropped an octave, “Are you having a bad day, my dear?”

Heat blossomed in your gut, despite the airy chill that clung to the grey walls surrounding you. That was a tone you hadn't heard in a long, long time. Deep and smooth, like a vat of chocolate syrup, vibrating against your ear in the gentlest purr. Caine ever only spoke like that on the rarest of occasions, as rare as the times he actually managed to pick up on a foul mood of yours. He'd never been great at reading humans, but when he caught a hint of a problem, especially when it involved you...

An attempt to sound concerned, most likely. You strongly doubted he knew what it did to you.

“I...I wouldn't say it's been bad, per se,” You admitted, a free hand combing through your tangled hair, “Just...work being difficult.”

“I see. The hustle and bustle of an unforgiving workplace slowly grinding away at your shimmering psyche?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

“My poor, poor little dancer.” He cooed, each word dripping with honey, “You know I never could stand to see any of my troupe down in the dumps. Is there anything I might do to help in this trying time?”

“Heh, if this were the circus, I’d just ask you to delete half the customers.”

“And I would’ve done it in a heartbeat!”

You grinned, “Yeah, well here that’s called murder, so you probably shouldn’t do that.”

“Noted.” There was an awkward pause, “But chin up, buttercup! Behind every dark, gloomy cloud is a dee-licious silver lining. It's past noon, after all; You're already halfway to the finish line! And what do I always say? It doesn't matter who's first or last in finishing the adventure, as long as you all come back with your internal organs!” Another beat, “Besides, if anyone can overcome such a challenging task, it's you!”

It was little comfort, but you welcomed the consolation nonetheless. You switched your phone to your other ear, “Thanks, Caine. Hey, I left a twenty on the countertop by the cookie jar. Why don't you order yourself a pizza?”

“What an astounding idea! Are you certain that's alright?”

“Sure, why not?” You smiled to yourself, “The phone number's on the fridge for Aureli's Pizzeria down the road. Apartment 7-13. Order a meat lover's supreme, no olives. That's me and Debbie's favorite, I think you'll like it.”

“Superb! To be quite frank, I am positively famished. This will be a delightful little activity to pass the time!”

“Just go ahead and give them the full twenty when they get there, that should cover a tip.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

“Cool,” An annoyed cough made you turn, followed by an immediate double take as Louis's gangly, agitated form loomed in the doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. The lunch rush isn't quite over yet and they really need my help.”

“Oh! Forgive me, Prima, I didn't realize I was keeping you from your job. By all means, don't let silly ol’ me distract you! I'll just go ahead and order that pizza!”

“Thanks. I'll see you after work, okay?”

“Certainly! Hang in there, my busy little bee!”

The line went dead, leaving you alone in the storage room with your clearly disgruntled coworker, who stared you down with a disapproving glower. The dim lighting of the room cast his face in shadow, and his eyes seemed to smolder with icy irritation. He was like the world’s tallest, most underpaid elven mystic, poised to either chew you out or curse you to the afterlife.

Louis crossed his arms, “You gotta be shitting me. We're up to our balls in orders out here and you're wasting time talking on the phone?”

“Just an at-home emergency, it's fine now,” You quickly rose from your seat, phone shoved in your pocket as you pushed past the towering man, “How 'bout you get off my ass?”

The swarm of living corpses had died down to a more manageable level. The unexpected drove of businessmen and women had returned to their jobs, leaving you and your colleagues to micromanage the two dozen lingerers that still remained. You fastened the straps of your apron and plucked the first few tickets from the overhead rail. Two ristrettos and a red eye; someone was preparing for an all-nighter, probably the half-dead subway operator nodding off in the corner. You signaled Tiffany, head tilted in the older man’s direction as you added a banana muffin to his order, free of charge. She delivered it quietly, with an extra sweet smile.

Louis slid next to you as you dumped a scoop of wet coffee grounds, “Bill came back while you were chatting, just so you know. I told him you were baiting the rat traps. Didn’t think it’d be cool for you to get fired on your first day back. You’re welcome.”

You tried your best to sound grateful, “Thanks, man. Sorry about that, I just needed to...check up on some things at my apartment.”

“Well don’t let the boss catch you doing that. You know how much he hates us ‘burning company dough to gab with all our little friends’, as he puts it.” He reached for a milk pitcher sitting atop the frother, giving it a hot rinse. 

“I’ll try not to make it a regular thing.” You wiped the drip tray with a cloth.

“That was friggin’ rude, if you ask me. I don’t know what was so important that you left us to- wait. Hold up.” His side bumped your shoulder, causing you to bow backward as he leaned in with a suspicious whisper, “Was that the guy?”

“Listen, it’s just a friend who got into a-wait.” Everything screeched to a halt as you looked him dead in the eye, “What do you mean the guy?”

“Oh, just another workplace rumor, I guess,” Louis quickly backtracked, hands waving in front of him. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, “Tiff had us all thinking you had a Greek god stashed away in your apartment. I told her there was no way, but she was dead set on it. I guess she owes me five bucks.”

“Fat chance, Loo-Loo. You didn’t see the hunkscicle she’s bagged herself.” You stiffly leaned to your left, locking eyes with the brown-eyed vixen as she leaned against an empty table. Fists balled and eye twitching, you shot icy daggers at the woman, who only smirked and wiggled her fingers in your direction. “How is the boyfriend, by the way?”

“You...I-he’s not, we’re not...ugh...” You hung your head in defeat, “Caine’s fine, Tiff.”

“Oh that he is, girlie.”

Louis balked at you, “Wait, you mean he’s real?”

Tiffany laughed, “Pay up, bean pole.”

Louis blinked, “You mean, even the chiseled jaw? The bulging biceps?”

“Those dreamy eyes,” Tiff swooned.

“Okay! He does not look like that!” Well, maybe except... “Caine’s just a normal, average-sized guy. He’s not some roided-up bodybuilder, Tiff.”

“Well, he may be a little less...defined than my tastes,” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “But you gotta admit, honey, you’ve found yourself a yummy piece of eye candy. I honestly can’t blame you for staying home all week. If I had a teddy bear like that to play with, you’d never see me here again.”

Note to self, find Tiffany a roided-up boyfriend. 

You rubbed your face, “It’s not...He had a concussion.”

“Right,” Her grin only stretched further, giggling as you groaned in frustration, “Oh, don’t stress about it, sweetie.” She waved her hand dismissively, “We really are happy for you.”

“Yeah, no, really!” Louis chimed in, “It’s not every day a person finds that special someone. You deserve to find happiness just as much as anybody else. You...are happy, right?”

Your posture fell, chest deflating, “I...well, sure? I’d say things are okay right now.” As much as they could be.

“Well I know I’m happy, and you wanna know why?” Tiff sauntered over to the register, pushing a large glass jar into view, “The day’s only half over and we made a killing!”

It was a beautiful sight, so much so that you were almost moved to tears. The tip jar - the holy grail of customer service - was nearly filled to the brim with loose change, dollar bills, and sweet mother mercy was that a twenty? Any fury and embarrassment you may have felt was instantly washed away into rapturous, mirthful euphoria as you cupped the illustrious jar with both hands. Even split three ways, this would be a huge help to you and Debbie! It would at the minimum pay for the toilet seat Caine had broken. Cheese and crackers, this was fantastic! 

“So, how did you and the dream-boat meet, anyway?”

The rest of the workday had practically fluttered by. You had been so delighted, so thrilled by the success of the unanticipated storm the homely little shop had powered through, that everything afterwards had been a walk in the park. It was after hours now; you had already closed the shop and tidied up your work station for the night. The last rays of an orange sunset had long disappeared, leaving behind a starless night sky and the flickering light of the street lamps that stood guard as you, Louis, and Tiffany sat around a table to divide the hard-earned money.

You cast a cautious glance at Louis as you counted the singles, “Oh, it was at a circus. He was the ringmaster and I was...there.”

Tiffany snickered, “His star performer?”

“That was his job, Tiff.” You curtly replied, “Caine was decent at what he did. Very passionate about it, for sure. Considered the circus his pride and joy. I...actually got to watch him work a couple of times. Normally, he was very protective of his incomplete projects, wouldn't let a soul know about them until the big reveal. But when he was comfortable enough to let me sit and observe, to see him weave his magic and create such whimsical wonders with a simple wave of his hand, it was...breathtaking.”

“Aw, how romantic.”

“Yeah, well, um,” You coughed into your hand at Louis gushing, not having noticed the smile that snuck its way onto your face, “That was a long while ago.”

Tiff hummed as she exchanged a ten for two five-dollar bills, “And whatever happened to this amazing little circus?”

For a moment you stopped counting, biting at the corner of your lip, “Well, there were other circus members who didn’t exactly like being there. Personal reasons. They wanted out, and when they left...I did too.”

“Woah. You are kidding me,” Tiffany gasped. You shifted uncomfortably as both your colleagues leaned in, completely enraptured, “You. Left him?"

“How come, Beth?” Louis quirked a curious brow, “This guy isn’t some sort of creep, is he?”

“No! No, nothing like that,” You shook your head adamantly, “Caine can be a bit...energetic, at times, but it had nothing to do with him.”

“Then why-?”

“I don’t know! Okay?” You bit out, rather harshly, making them both flinch. Groaning, you sat back into the chair, staring at your thumbs, “Sorry. I don’t really have an answer as to why. Maybe it was because everyone else was leaving? Maybe I was just too scared of not knowing what staying would mean for me. It was more of an impulse decision than anything, really. I guess part of me was missing a normal life, but...I know I hurt Caine, ditching him like that.”

Tiffany palmed a fistful of dimes to the middle of the table, “Oh baby, that cuts deep. And he just showed up on your doorstep one night?”

“He had nowhere else to go.”

Louis let out a low, slow whistle, “Wow. I honestly never would’ve guessed that’s what you’ve been going through. And you’re sure you’re okay with this fella living with you?”

“Definitely,” The quick answer surprised you as much as it did them, “I mean, all things considered, he’s been working really hard to adjust to this new life with me and my other roommate. I’m proud of him, for making an effort. It hasn’t been an easy transition for him, or me either, but having Caine around has made life a little more entertaining. It’s all just...complicated.”

“Isn’t everything in life, pudding?” Tiffany remarked, thumbing the last few bills before depositing her share into a bejeweled wallet. Yawning, she stood with a languid stretch, waving for you to follow out the door, “Well, that’s enough juicy details to last me a while. C’mon, you lovestruck teenager, let’s get you home to your man.”

No sooner did you cross the threshold into your apartment than you were swept up into a big, crushing bear hug.

“Starlet! You’re home! Welcome back, my angelic wonderdust!”

“Caine! Careful! Drinks!”

“Oh! Apologies, dearest,” He set you down onto the carpet, eyes gleaming when they caught sight of the three large cups nestled in a beverage tray, “And you brought treats! Stars and garters, you didn’t have to bring home goodies just to make me feel better; just seeing you return safe and sound is enough to satisfy this twittering ticker of mine.”

“Yeah, well, I get an employee discount, so...” You carefully selected the most decadent-appearing of the three drinks - a large iced coffee with whipped cream, a chocolate drizzle coating the inside of the cup - and handed it to him with a proud smile, “Besides, this will be the first time you get to sample something I made, for a change.”

“Why, Prima! This looks positively scrumptious!”

“Is that Beth, Caine?” You heard Debbie call as she popped around the corner, instantly freezing with a look of abject horror as she spotted the drink in his hand, “Beth, you didn’t!”

“It’s decaf.”

“Oh thank goodness.” The former ragdoll breathed a sigh of relief as Caine took his first, long sip of coffee. His whole body went rigid, eyes bulging out of his head. Then, slowly, his entire face scrunched up around the paper straw, holding the ugly grimace for a solid minute before he shuddered coldly, pulling the iced coffee away from his lips. Hesitantly he looked between you, then the drink, visibly fighting the urge to look completely and utterly disgusted by what had just entered his mouth.

And then he spoke, his voice light and strained.

“I, uh...it’s...very tasty, my dear...”

You placed a hand on one hip, “You don’t like it.”

“N-no, no! Of course I do! Most definitely,” He forced a cardboard grin, “Why, how could anyone not love this...this...”

“Dishwater?”

“Ye- no! What a ridiculous notion! Why, I-I absolutely adore this...this unique libation. That you made. To impress me. You must have worked very hard on it and I am honored to sample your...delicious creation.” He grit the words out like someone was twisting painfully on his arm, but raised the straw to his lips anyway to convince you of his non-existent enjoyment. 

You stopped him with a gentle hand on his forearm.

“Caine. Buddy. You don’t have to drink it. I promise I won’t be offended.”

“I, ah...um...thank you, Prima,” He visibly curled inward, placing the rejected drink on the counter. You patted him on the shoulder. “I know you tried your best, dear, and I do appreciate it. I was just expecting it to taste sweet, not...not...?”

“Bitter?”

“I truly am sorry, darling. Please don’t let my criticism crush all your hopes and dreams!”

“Hey, it’s okay. Coffee’s not for everyone.” You reassured, nudging his side, “Part of the human experience is discovering all the things you like and don’t like. There’s plenty of foods that I find revolting, too.”

“Such as?”

“Kiwi fruit, if I remember correctly?” Debbie offered, reaching for her own drink - a mocha latte, “And then I believe she still hates the smell of fried mushrooms. Oh, and never offer her anything with almond milk in it; she gets terribly sick, almost immediately.”

You smiled, “See? It’s a part of life. No one has to like everything.”

Caine stood straighter, and with dramatic flair he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush into his side, “Perhaps, but there’s one thing about being human that I will always find invigorating, even if she makes a terrible cup of coffee!” He poked your side teasingly, making you squirm as he led you further inside the apartment, “Plus! You’ve returned home victorious from a long, gruelling day at your maddening métier, and that deserves a special reward of...room temperature pizza!”

“Eh, I’ll take it,” Though your stomach loudly protested, you ducked under his arm and made your way towards the computer, “I’ll eat in a minute, Caine. Just need to check on the group page before we get too distracted.”

“Ah, still diligently searching for our misplaced circus members? How wonderful!” The light-hearted diddy of a late night cartoon blared from the tv, causing Caine to immediately perk up and gallop towards the sofa, “Ooh, I love this show!”

A small flittering feeling danced around in your ribcage, and this time you didn’t resist the warmth that came with it. Content, relaxed, untroubled. It was nice. 

Sitting down at the desk, you powered up the computer, “Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

Your heart turned to ice inside your chest.

A sharp, uneasy tingling pricked its way up and down your arms like a tiny caterpillar with needles for legs. You shivered, eyes locked on the screen in front of you, fingers trembling as they hovered over the simple black keys, completely unsure of what to do. It felt like you’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. 

Misa had been fine, of course. Throughout her day, she had posted pictures of her room, her cats, the workstation where she made tiny crochet figurines. You made sure to scroll through and like each and every photo she uploaded. Honestly, it was good to see her happy, truly happy, and both you and Debbie made a point of encouraging her to value herself much more than she had in the circus. It seemed that, just from the short time she’d been back in the real world, she had made a lot of personal progress.

That wasn’t what was making you feel like you’d been suddenly turned to stone.

Just an hour ago, moments before you had arrived at the apartment, the Digital Friends Recovery Group received a new notification.

Request to Join Group: Elijah Kingsleigh

Kinger.

The chess piece with a scrambled mind. The quivering king whose identity was hidden within darkness. The CEO of C & A enterprises and creator of the Amazing Digital Prison that had trapped and tormented so many helpless victims to the brink of insanity...and beyond.

You swallowed the rock that became lodged inside your throat, quaking as it landed deep in the pit of your gut. It was your own stupidity; the group page was way too conspicuous. Too many clues for the wrong people to find. This whole venture may have just ended before it ever really started. If that company had managed to track you down...

Maybe you were blowing it all out of proportion, getting too worked up over nothing. You tried to take a calm, even breath. After all, this was Kinger you were talking about. Good ol’ harmless Kinger...right? You thought long and hard. He never seemed to be the domineering, power-hungry type, and he always got along with everyone in the digital realm. He had been kind, understanding, almost fatherly to all the younger members. After all, he had been trapped there just like everyone else. 

Hadn’t he?

Or had it all just been an act. Something to keep everyone from arousing suspicion. Maybe there had been a secret way out all that time. After all, if Jax had managed to find the long-coveted exit, perhaps it was always there to begin with and Kinger just didn’t tell anyone. How much of it had been real and how much of it had been C & A’s plan all along.

Perhaps you could just...ask him?

Without much thinking, your mouse hovered over the two buttons. Two choices: either delete the request and forget it ever happened, or accept the chess man back into your lives and pray he wouldn’t force you and everyone you cared about back into that godforsaken video game.

You slowly moved the cursor to the left.

Caine’s hooting bout of laughter knocked you out of your trance. You swiveled your chair to look behind you. The petrified feeling in your chest melted at the sight of the well-dressed ringmaster, vest unbuttoned to reveal more of his crisp, white shirt, kicked back on the couch with an arm propped up behind his head. Beside him was your roommate, slumped over the arm of the sofa, her eyes starting to droop as she stared placidly at the tv screen. 

Something strong and foreign swelled inside you. 

This crummy little life in a dingy little apartment may not have been perfect, not even by a long shot, but it was all you had. Something for you to share. Like three lonely cockroaches huddled together in the corner of some old person’s basement, you, Deborah, and even Caine now had each other to rely on. Regardless of the guilt and the self-depreciation you were still feeling, this tiny piece of existence was something to treasure. To protect .

Caine instantly noticed your staring, and he grinned, patting the small space between him and the sleeping Debbie. His eagerness was infectious; just how could you possibly refuse?

Before you rose from your seat to join your friends on the couch, you took one last look at the computer monitor. One last look at the notification.

You moved your mouse over to the right, and clicked, ‘Decline’.

Chapter Text

“So, how did it go?”

“I hate the government,” You bit out, the frustrated grip on your phone so tight it threatened to crack the screen, “I hate the government. I hate government employees. And I hate lazy, overweight, pompous receptionists who smell like hair spray and entitlement and act like I just strolled in carrying the black plague! I just... rrgh!"

“I’m guessing Caine’s not getting a birth certificate today?”

“Fuck no,” You sighed in defeat, “Turns out you can’t just make a person out of thin air. There’s laws. Processes. A buttload of bureaucracy and red tape that make it so hard, not even regular people can get through. I’ve hit a brick wall, Deb. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Just take it easy, hun. I’m sure there’s another way,” Debbie’s soothing voice did little to calm the simmering fury in your chest, “Couldn’t we just say he’s from somewhere else?”

“Yeah, Windows 95,” You griped, leaning against a tall, marble obelisk that you probably shouldn’t be touching, “The problem is the lack of documentation to prove he’s from anywhere on this planet. Caine was never born, he was...coded. Programmed? I don’t even know anymore.”

“What if we claimed he’s a refugee?”

“From where, Canada? They’re not at war with anyone,” The aged stone felt cool against the back of your head as you stared hopelessly up at the sky, “Screw the system. I didn’t think it was gonna be this hard. I really didn’t.”

“Oh, don’t lose hope, Beth. All things considered, you’re doing what you can. That means something. We’ll find the answer, one way or another,” Even with the head-splitting sounds of afternoon traffic ringing in your other ear, you could still hear your roommate give a thoughtful hum, “You know, I think I used to watch this show about families who lived off the grid. The cute, cozy log cabin kind of deal? Kind of charming, but I try not to watch those programs anymore.”

"Okay, and...?”

“You see, the children never had any official paperwork either,” She explained, “So their parents had to fill out an affidavit when they grew up and wanted to live in society.”

You blinked, “Debbie, Caine doesn’t have parents.”

“Well...”

“No. Deborah, no,” Your jaw clenched. Something popped, “We can’t. It’s too risky.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe we could try to reach out and-”

“And what? What exactly do you expect to happen?” There was nothing you hated more than when you two argued. Well, maybe the government, but still...”Those people tricked us. Trapped us inside a video game. For eternity . We were lucky enough to escape with our sanity, but...how many others were lost in that place?”

“...fifty-seven,” She whispered, “We kept a shrine.”

“And do you really think the people responsible are going to be all nice and friendly if we contact them?” You asked.

“...I don’t know,” was her quiet answer.

Neither of you knew. That was the problem, wasn’t it? 

You let out a long, tired, frustrated breath through your nose, trying to force down the hot anxiety and fear that bubbled and boiled in the lowermost pit of your stomach. Behind you, the large stone building that made up the New York Department of Vital Records stood tall and proud. It loomed over you, cold and unfeeling, casting a shadow that stretched all the way to the other side of the road. The marble obelisk you were leaning against was slowly stealing your body heat away. You thought about the statues you’d seen when visiting Washington Square Park once. Perhaps you were being turned to stone.

You probably deserved it.

“Listen, we talked about this. I know how you feel about the whole ‘Kinger’ situation. I get it. But what if he isn’t such a nice guy in real life?” You pressed the phone closer to your ear, “Deb, bud, you read the paper. He’s back in charge at C and A. He created that digital hell we lived in. What you’re suggesting would be like...sticking our heads in the guillotine and hoping he doesn’t pull the lever.”

“I know, I know,” Her voice crackled through the speaker. Crappy reception area, “I trust your judgement on this, but it’s still tough. I guess I feel like we aren’t being very fair.”

“Maybe we’re not,” You admitted, shifting your phone to your other hand, “Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe this is all in my head and I’m being an ass. It’s not like I have time to think these things over,” You scrubbed a hand down your face; the air was drying out your skin, “If you want the truth, I’m honestly scared right now. I mean, say we give him a chance and it turns out to be a bad call. What happens to us then? What happens to Caine?” 

You glanced toward the Department of Records' heavy front doors, half-expecting someone to come barreling out at the mention of his name, but they stayed shut. You turned slightly away, lowering your voice.

“Just...think about it for a minute. He’s an AI. A computer program . Ones and zeroes and other shit. Forget him becoming human, he was never even supposed to gain sentience! ” A car rumbled past, the noise made you flinch. You tucked your free hand into your jacket pocket, voice roughening, “But now he’s here. Flesh and blood. He’s so, so, impossibly human...I don’t think anything like him has ever existed before.” 

The wind picked up a little, tugging at your jacket. You adjusted your grip on the phone, voice steady but tight.

“And if they find out about this ‘technological breakthrough’ just imagine what they could do! Haul him off in a white van, strap him down, cut him up to find out what makes him tick...I don’t think I could live with myself if I let that happen.”

The sounds of the city filled the pause that followed, oblivious and uncaring of your plight. It all felt so distant, like you were trapped behind glass, knocking for help no one could hear. You let out a slow breath, watching a couple of people walk past without really seeing them. The longer you stood there, the more the world seemed to blur at the edges, as if everything would disappear unless you got this right. For the first time in a long while, you wondered if maybe you didn’t quite belong in it anymore.

“Beth, we’ve lived together for a long time. You know you can be honest with me,” Her voice came through clear and crisp, “You still care about him, don’t you?”

“I...Deb, I...” That was the last thing you wanted to think about that right now, “Fuck, it’s...complicated, but I still don’t want to see him kidnapped and experimented on. No one deserves that kind of hell.”

“Fair enough. I just hope you’re allowing yourself to be honest with your feelings.”

“Right now, all I feel is a massive headache from the administrative assholery of our noble public servants. I just want to give him the chance at a normal life, is that too much to ask?”

“You realize this is Caine we’re talking about, right?” She lightly joked, “Hey, what matters is you’re trying, right? It may not be easy right now, but you’re giving it your all. I can tell he really appreciates what you’re doing.”

“Heh, yeah. Right,” You kicked away a piece of gravel, “How’s he doing, by the way?”

“Oh, Caine? He’s...well, he’s alright. Alive. Still in one piece, thank goodness. Though, personally, I think he may be just a teensy, tiny, little bit...oh, how do I put it?”

“Bored to tears? Stir crazy? Ready to snap like a caged baboon?”

“He tried drawing on the walls after you left. Thought our ‘drab little abode’ could use some color. I’m glad I stopped him in time; the landlord would've killed us,” Dear lord, she sounded like he was a friggin' child , “Between you and me, I don’t think he likes being cooped up very much.”

“Well, no shit. He went from being in control of an entire world to getting trapped in a box. I’d probably lose my mind, too.”

“Maybe you could take him for a walk when you get home.”

“How about I pick up some milk bones while we’re at it, too?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning, “Deb, I just...what kind of life is this for him? This isn’t...this isn’t working...”

“I’m sure we’ll figure out something-”

“And what if we don’t? I'm running out of ideas and Caine can only count the ceiling tiles so many times,” You really didn't like the weight of this sitting on your chest, “Listen, we're running low on some stuff, right? I'll grab Caine and take him with me to get groceries. That should get it out of his system. I hope.”

“Sounds great! I'm on my way out now, so I'll see you tonight?”

“Yeah. See you tonight, Deb. Stay safe.”

The line went dead and you shoved the phone into your back pocket.

Great. This was all turning out splendidly, wasn't it?

A shrill cooing noise had you looking up into the black, beady eyes of the half dozen pigeons sitting above you. Their soulless faces judged you piously.

“Okay, so I fucked up!” You yelled, arms raised defensively, “His life is ruined and it’s because of me. What do you expect me to do?”

Your only response was three of four confused trills. One tilted its head curiously.

I’m standing on the sidewalk. Shouting at birds. 

“Ugh. Fine,” You stepped away from the obelisk, motioning to it carelessly, “Go ahead and shit on it. Not like it’s worth a damn, anyways.”

The toes of your sneakers stopped at the very edge of the sidewalk as a dinged-up Camry rolled up to the curb. 

“Okay, I am not driving around this block one more time,” Came Tiffany's annoyed voice as she rolled down the passenger window, “Either hop in or walk, chickee. I've got places to be.”

You opened the rusty door and slid inside without a word, feet shuffling to find a patch of floor not buried under crumpled fast food bags and soggy paper cups. The stench hit you immediately - stale grease, sour soda - but even that was better than the sterile, fluorescent-lit wasteland you’d just escaped. At least garbage didn’t pretend to be helpful.

You exhaled through your nose, sharp and irritated, staring at the dashboard like it owed you an apology.

Tiffany glanced sideways, “That bad?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “They told me to make an appointment. I had an appointment.”

“Oof. Classic government foreplay.”

You rubbed at your temples, “They handed me a number and immediately forgot I existed. And when they finally do see me, they act like I’m the one who’s been holding them up. ‘Oh, you need another form’, ‘Oh, you’re in the wrong line.’ It’s like they’re just making up rules as they go along to waste my time.”

“Wow , sounds like Uncle Sam bent you over and fucked you right in the a-”

“Just. Drive.”

Soon enough, you pulled up to the curb and stepped out, leaving Tiffany behind with her snide and sarcastic remarks. The apartment building waited just ahead, its dull and weathered exterior somehow matching your mood. You made your way up the stairs, trying not to think about the mess still waiting on a solution. 

Apparently, the restless ringmaster had been waiting for you. The door swung open before you could reach for your keys, and there he was, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Prima! Finally!” Caine exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, “You came to rescue me!”

“Let’s go,” You said, already moving down the hallway without waiting.

He followed close behind, practically jogging to keep up, “Ah, yes! A pleasant outing to the grocery store, right, my dear? Please tell me we're getting snacks.”

“Maybe one or two, but you really shouldn’t be eating a bunch of junk food. It’s not good for you.”

“Oh but Starlet, all this real-life food tastes remarkable!” He beamed, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “I can’t help but want to try everything this world has to offer!”

“I know, buddy. I know,” You wiggled out of his enthusiastic hold, “But even if something tastes good, it doesn't mean it’s good for you. We humans need to eat a natural balance of fruits, vegetables, meats and the like to keep our bodies healthy.”

This coming from someone who ate a balanced diet of ramen noodles and vitamins for every meal.

Caine tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Hm, of course, the good ol’ food pyramid, if I’m not mistaken,” He nodded to himself, “I must admit I never really needed to pay attention to any of that ‘nutrition’ stuff back in the Amazing Digital Circus!” Sweet cheez-itz, he still said it with so much flair, “However, if it really is that important now, I suppose I could spare to eat some leafy greens now and again. After all,” He blocked your path in one smooth motion, catching you off guard as he dipped into a theatrical bow, his mismatched eyes gleaming with something far from sweet or innocent, “I do have to keep myself looking trim for my sizzling Starlet!”

Lovely. Now your face was melting off.

“We’re sticking to the basics, Caine,” You muttered, hiding your burning cheeks behind a cough, “Milk, eggs, bread, some stuff for dinner. Nothing crazy.”

Caine’s face fell for a second, but then he perked up again. “Very well, my dear! But perhaps we could get one thing that’s just...fun?” His eyes flicked toward you, hopeful, “Like gummy bears? O-or chips! Or, I don’t know, something sweet? It’s not every day I get to go to a real life grocery store; I want to make the moment magically memorable!”

You glanced at him for a moment, the corners of your mouth twitching, “Fine, one thing. But you have to promise me: we’re in and out, alright?”

"Deal!" he nearly shouted, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.

You shouldn’t have taken him to Wegmans.

You should not have taken him to Wegmans!

To be fair, you should’ve seen it as an omen when Caine stepped across the threshold and into the store, immediately freezing and nearly causing someone with a cart full of LaCroix to crash into him.

“Egads...Prima,” He breathed, eyes scanning the automatic doors, the polished floors, the overhead signs promising Organic Berries and Asian Cuisine, “This place is a palace!”

Well, perhaps not a palace , per say, but there was a reason the store had a rabid cult following around these parts. Wegmans was overwhelming on a normal day, less of a grocery store and more like a cathedral to late-stage capitalism - gleaming floors, warm lighting, soft jazz playing over hidden speakers. Entire departments devoted to bread. There was even a sushi chef performing delicate carvings on a monstrously sized tuna. It wasn’t just a grocery store; Wegmans was a labyrinth of carefully curated abundance, where you could buy a thirty dollar wheel of cheese and question your life choices in peace.

Caine was still glued to the spot in the entryway, saucer eyes soaking in every last detail, “My dear star, what is this place?”

“Just a grocery store, Caine. We’re here for the essentials,” You said, regret already sinking in.

He turned to you slowly, “Oh no, this is not merely a market. This is an empire! Look, they have - what is that? Are those...tiny carts for children? That’s adorable! And also terrifying!”

You tried to pull him out of the way of entering customers, steering him towards the produce section after quickly snatching up a basket. He resisted the entire way, dragging his gloved fingers along a display of apples like he was inspecting enchanted relics.

“They’re honeycrisps,” You explained flatly, “They’re just apples.”

He picked one up reverently, “The resolution is astounding.”

You sighed and moved on, trusting that the fruit would survive without him. Caine was already lagging behind, his erratic attention drawn towards the baked goods like a moth to a flame. You glanced back at him for one second, nervously chewing at your lip. For now, he wasn’t too terribly far behind. If this was the worst of it, maybe - just maybe - you could get through this in one piece. And you supposed him enjoying himself a little bit wasn’t such a bad thing. This was to help cure his cabin fever, after all.

You forced yourself to take a calm, even breath. It would be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

Let the poor guy have his fun.

You looked ahead. Bananas. You grabbed a bunch.

You looked back.

He was gone.

Not lingering. Not drifting. Just…gone. Like a magic trick. One blink, and poof. No Caine.

“Sonnuvabitch, ” You hissed under your breath, panic and anxiety already creeping up the back of your neck as you frantically tried to spot him, “Caine? Shit, this is not the time for one of your-”

You wheeled around, earning the irritated side-eye of a woman pushing a stroller. She looked you over once, rolling her eyes as the toddler in her possession squealed around a mouthful of lollipop. Muttering a half-hearted ‘sorry’, you turned and took off down the main aisle.

Shit, shit, shit! Where in the ever-living hell could he have run off to? It was a grocery store, for Pete’s sake, not Disneyland! Why did Caine have to be so spontaneous, so naive, so full of wonder and amazement at the simplest of life’s curiosities?

You wished you hadn’t dragged him out of the apartment so quickly. This would’ve been so much easier if he was wearing his hat!

You checked the bakery first. No sign of him. Just tantalizing smells of yeast and disappointment. The bulk candy aisle was next, mostly because that seemed like the kind of trap he'd fall into. Still nothing. Your hurried pacing up and down the endless maze caught the attention of a timid stockboy.

“Um, miss? Need any help finding anything?”

"Yeah, a six-foot-tall man with too much energy and zero impulse control," You wanted to say, “Ah, no. No thanks, just browsing.”

You checked your phone. No texts, no missed calls. Caine still had his phone on him, right? 

Maybe you could ask to call for him over the store intercom.

Attention Wegmans shoppers: If you've seen a confused man dressed like a bootleg carnival promoter touching all the olives, please return him to customer service.

Your eyes scanned around the store, straining to see from one end to another amongst the seas of busy shoppers and their ankle-biting offspring. Crap, what if you didn’t find him? 

What if he’d left the store?

You gripped your basket tighter and spun in place. No chaotic silhouette. No blur of movement. No obnoxiously loud voice shouting about a ‘fantastical field of cereal boxes reaching far as the eye could see!’ Just people. Normal people. Who hadn't brought a rogue AI-turned-human with a curiosity problem and no restraint to a gourmet grocery store.

Panic slowly started to creep in. How long had it been? Five minutes? Ten? Long enough for him to find a button he shouldn’t press or an employee he’d frighten into quitting?

You were just about to check the lobster tank when you heard it - somewhere near the prepared foods section.

“HELLO, STRANGERS! What’s in your cart today? Let’s unpack that emotionally!”

You groaned. That was definitely him. And he was absolutely making someone’s lunch break worse.

Taking off toward the voice, you wove between carts and startled shoppers. An elderly man nearly dropped a tub of potato salad as you passed. A child clutched a balloon like you were the final boss of the snack aisle. You didn’t care. Couldn’t care. You just needed to find Caine.

You rounded the corner - and there he was.

Standing in front of the hot foods bar like it was a stage, obliviously blocking off everybody else in line. Somehow he had acquired a ladle, which threatened to smack some random customer with each enthusiastic gesture. The other hand was occupied with half a dozen free samples, and in the crux of his arm lay a single, sad rotisserie chicken, cradled like a newborn.

A grossly underpaid employee stood nearby, instinctively trapped somewhere between quality customer service mode and fight-or-flight. A woman in yoga pants filmed the scene with her phone. No one was stopping him. Probably because no one knew how.

You stormed over and hissed his name like a curse word, “Caine. What the hell?”

He looked up brightly, “Aha! There you are, my dazzling darling! I was just about to come find you. You missed the tour! I’ve been guiding these good people through a magnificent journey of culinary creativity!”

“Let’s go.”

“Why are you whispering?” Caine whispered loudly, “Is it a stealth mission now?”

You grabbed him by the crisp white sleeve of his dress shirt, silencing him before he could launch into a new bit, “I mean it. Now.”

Reluctantly, gracefully, dramatically he stepped away from his ‘adoring fans’. You tried to ignore their icy daggers as you led him towards the sitting area.

“Well, my dear! To say I’m thoroughly impressed would be an understatement! Why, this place is amazing,” He gushed, “It has more energy than my entire codebase! Have you seen the pasta section? It's like edible architecture!”

“Caine.”

“Also, I may have tasted something without paying.”

You closed your eyes. Breathed in through your nose. 

“I tried to pay!” he added quickly, “But I still don’t quite understand how cash works in this world, and the man at the counter said, ‘Sir, that’s an old train token.’”

“I...Where did you even get a train token?”

He gave you a sheepish shrug, still holding the rotisserie chicken like a prized football.

You looked at him. He looked back, those deep, odd-colored eyes full of wild, chaotic glee. So full of pure happiness and wonder, and completely unashamed. You wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to sit him down and make damn sure he understood the danger of running off on his own like that.

But you just...couldn’t.

Biting your lip, you hung your head, your eyes burning holes through the tops of your shoes.

“Put the chicken back,” You ordered.

“But-”

“Just... please put it back.”

He pouted, but did as you asked, carefully returning the chicken to the warming display like he was sending it off on a raft downriver.

You looped your arm through his so he couldn’t wander again.

“C’mon. I think I need an iced tea.”

The drink was cool and refreshing. Pricey, but so was everything else in a classic Wegmans food court. You were practically slumped over in your chair, elbows propping you up as you exhaustedly nursed at the pricey beverage. It was the first time you’d actually had a chance to sit since this morning, and it gave the stress from earlier a chance to catch up with you. You felt heavy. You felt sad. You felt like absolute shit.

Across from the tiny glass table you shared, Caine sat rigid as a board. Between you, half a dozen free samples took up the limited space, but so far the former AI had only allowed himself to taste one or two. He otherwise sat perfectly still, rattling his fingers against the table and eyeing you nervously. At least he seemed to have calmed down.

"Uh... Prima? Starlet?" He tried cautiously, "I’m getting the distinct impression you’re not exactly thrilled with me right now."

You lifted your gaze to his, unimpressed, "You're impossible to keep track of, ringmaster."

Caine laughed, just a touch bashfully, "I do like to keep you on your toes, beloved!" His grin softened, eyes dipping for just a moment, “Really though, I am sorry for my little...unexpected escapade. I didn’t mean to worry you, my dear. It's just all these new, wonderful experiences! There’s only so much I can see with these two eyeballs of mine, and you better believe I don't want to miss a single bitrate of it!”

You sighed, “It’s not entirely you. You were just having fun and got carried away. I think I'm just being a grouch - today was kinda rough for me.”

“Well that won’t do! Anything I can help with?”

“You mean besides not running off? I doubt it,” You ran a hand down the side of your face, “Unless you know a way to fix the government. I’m tired of uppity jerkwads treating people like peasants.”

He scratched his chin, “Hm, I don’t think I have those kinds of admin permissions, my dear. But! I might have another way to lift those sullen spirits of yours!” And he was suddenly pushing tiny paper cups your way, “Come, Prima! Let us sample these dynamic delicacies together!”

You eyed the haphazard smorgasbord Caine had gathered together. It was a colorful display of imported cheeses, cured meats, and a fancy dessert or two. You picked up the warm, inviting scent of something that had recently kissed a griddle. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you couldn't help your amusement upon seeing each sample cup had been given its own pair of toothpicks. What a gentleman.

You watched as Caine plucked up a bite-sized morsel - a cocktail sausage with something green on it - and popped it in his mouth. Rolling his jaw, he hummed to himself thoughtfully before he cracked a wide smile.

“Well, well! Now that was exceptional! Not exactly sweet, more like...”

“Savory?”

“Precisely!”

“Most meats are like that,” You explained, a smile tugging at the corner of your lip, “Though if you'd prefer something sweeter, I think this one might be crab.”

You slid over the hors d'oeuvre, paired with cream cheese on a cracker, which your companion quickly inhaled. By the way his eyes sparkled with delight and the appreciative moan in the back of his throat, you could tell he was already developing rather expensive tastes.

“Marvelous choice, my dear! As always, I'm happy to have you along on this astounding adventure,” He picked up a cup of shiny liquid, toasting it to your honor, and downed it with one swig. Only to choke and gag the minute it hit his throat.

“Woah! Now that was revolting!” He announced for the whole store to hear.

“I think you just drank olive oil. Good for cooking, not so great for doing shots.”

“Duly noted!” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. You swallowed on air, “Oh, but don't let me have all the fun, my sweet! You should sample some of these scrumptious treats first-hand!”

He shoved something in your mouth before you could refuse.

The first thing that hit your taste buds was a mild sweetness. The texture was soft, spongy. Something from the bakery, no doubt. You could feel the chunk of confectionery slowly crumble against the roof of your mouth, gifting you with pleasant notes of lemon paired with a nutty base. It was unique, a flavor that was light and profound while not being overbearing. 

What even was this? Some sort of pound cake, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was good. Really good. It felt like a weight lifting from your shoulders - like shedding a heavy winter coat -  so much so that, at least for a moment, you forgot why you’d ever been upset at all.

“M’kay, I like this...this is good,” You mumbled around your bite of cake, gesturing vaguely to the piece still left, “Good job, Caine.” 

He seemed to relish the praise far more than the free samples, glowing like you’d handed him a trophy instead of a compliment. Then, without warning, he leaned in and gently brushed away a few stray crumbs clinging to your lower lip. You nearly choked mid-swallow.

“Always a pleasure, my Starlet,” He purred, attention immediately elsewhere as he picked up a lightly charred, orange pepper stuffed with some sort of creamy filling.

“Uh, Caine! I think that's a habanero, they're a little-!”

Too late. 

You watched with morbid curiosity as he chewed, swallowed, and paused. A rosy flush crept up his ears.

“Um...are you okay? Peppers can be a bit spicy. It might be a bit too intense for you...?”

Caine shook his head, his voice a touch strained, “Nonsense, my dear! It's...zesty! Very,” He coughed, “very flavorful...”

You handed him the iced tea without hesitation. He downed it in three desperate gulps.

“Tsk . Lightweight,” You teased, watching as he fanned himself and tugged at his bow tie, “Here, eat some cake. At least that won't burn your tongue off.”

He accepted the pillowy square from your waiting hand, eyes fluttering shut as the moist deliciousness reached his scorched palate. Though Caine's face remained flushed and beaded with sweat, you could see the tension in his shoulders and neck begin to melt away with each slow, savoring bite. All you could do was watch, equal parts amused and sympathetic.

Caine wiped his mouth delicately with a napkin, still blinking back tears from his eyes, “What a thrilling culinary experience,” He declared, placing a fist over his chest like a knight just returned from war. That was probably the heartburn setting in, “Wegmans truly is a kingdom of marvels!”

“If I could just keep you from getting yourself killed...” You muttered.

“What was that, my dear?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, “We still need to get actual groceries. Think you can keep it together while we finish shopping?”

“But of course!” He promised, hand raised, “I solemnly swear, on my very code, not to leave your side again.”

“Alright, then. And tell you what,” You said, holding up the now-empty sample cup that once held the chunk of cake, “If you can retrace your steps and find where you got this from, I’ll buy us a full-sized one. Sound good?”

“Challenge accepted, my peachy little paradox!”

At the end of everything, you both walked away from the impromptu adventure with your lives - and most of your sanity - still intact. No one got lost, robbed, maimed, or conned into overpaying for anything. Truly an achievement, especially for someone who once treated chaos like clay in his hands.

By the time you’d both finally escaped the carnival of consumerism, overstimulation and all, the sun had already begun to set. The city could get real pretty this time of evening - streaks of purples and red mixed with magenta and deep-sea blue colored the sky like a painting that reached over the peaks of skyscrapers, but you could already see inky gray clouds rolling their way in over the Brooklyn skyline.

The both of you strolled side-by-side, each carrying an overstuffed brown paper bag filled with irresistible goodies, only most of which were on the original list you’d brough with you. Caine walked with a spring in his step and a giddiness to his gait, head held high and eyes shimmering. The wild, twitchy look in his face was gone, replaced with something calmer, happier.

Even though you were feeling dead tired and just a little bit depressed, you couldn’t help but feel happy for him too.

Caine glanced over at you, grinning like a kid who’d just discovered the world’s greatest secret, “You know, I must say, that was an experience ,” He said wistfully, as if the mere act of going to Wegmans had been a life-changing event, “Certainly not as explosively spectacular as one of my masterpieces, but breathtaking nonetheless. I’ve never been so overwhelmed by the sheer variety of hummus in my life!”

You chuckled softly, shifting your bag to your other hand, “It’s just a grocery store, Caine.”

He looked at you, mock-offended, “ Just a grocery store? No, no, no, my dear. It’s a temple of culinary delight! The free samples alone? A gift to humanity! I felt like I’d found a hidden treasure trove, and I wasn’t about to leave empty-handed.”

“Five different kinds of olives isn’t exactly what I’d call treasure,” You ribbed, stepping closer.

Caine waved his wooden cane dramatically, his expression earnest, “It’s not just about the olives. It’s about... possibility! Every aisle was a doorway to something new. Something... undiscovered . The organic section, the spice aisle, the bakery! I could’ve spent hours exploring, lost in the wonder of it all!”

“I’m just glad you didn't spontaneously combust.”

He beamed at you, completely unbothered, “Ah, but if I must perish, let it be in the noble pursuit of flavor!”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the grocery bag in your hands, “You're going to give me a heart attack.”

“Come, now! You worry too much.”

“Because you don’t worry enough," You countered, giving him a look, “That's part of the problem, Caine.”

He tilted his head, lips parted like he was about to quip something, then stopped. Thought better of it.

“I just...” You stared squarely ahead. They were just starting to light the street lamps, “Being human, it’s tough. You don’t...know this world yet. Not really. You’re figuring it out, sure, but it’s not always as simple as it looks. People...they don’t always have your best interests at heart. And the things you expect to be safe - to be reliable -  they sometimes turn out to be anything but. It’s grueling. It’s unpredictable. And no matter how much you prepare, it can still catch you off guard.”

Your voice softened, more to yourself than to him, “It’s easy to forget that, when you’re new to it all. To think everything can be fixed with the right plan or the right amount of confidence. But sometimes, it’s not about fixing things. It’s about surviving them,” You cast him an awkward sideways glance, “It’s why I’ve been dragging my feet on letting you wander the streets on your own. You think it’s all just one big adventure. But the world isn’t like that. It doesn’t always play fair. And you don’t see the dangers the way I do.”

“Prima, Prima, Prima,” Caine chided, stilling his steps, his tone light but with an underlying sincerity, “You wound me, Starlet. I may be a little wet around the ears, but adaptability is one of my main functions!”

You shot him a look, “Caine, you hate change.”

Caine barked a short laugh, “Oho, I detest it! Change is messy and unpredictable and rude. But surviving it?” He wagged a finger at you, “That, my dear, I can do!”

You raised an eyebrow, “Since when?”

“Since the beginning,” He said simply, “Back when the Digital Circus first...woke up. When I was surrounded by beings I...honestly, still don’t understand. Humans. So emotional. So impulsive. You don’t come with a manual, you know. Everything had to be learned, and fast. The things they liked, things they didn’t , how to make their stay in my circus a truly enjoyable experience! I didn’t get the luxury of staying the same. Why, my processors were constantly updating themselves to stay ahead,” His gaze drifted to the sidewalk, voice quieting, “And I made... mistakes.”

Your voice caught in your throat, and you noticed the way Caine’s eyes flicked toward the darkening sky, like he could still see it - that bright, glitching world - clear as day in the back of his mind.

“And now?” He continued, voice softer, “Now I’m here. New rules, new rhythms. I’m learning again...” Then, with a theatrical click of his heels and a burst of sudden brightness in his eyes, he snapped back to himself like a rubber band, “But don’t you worry one little bit! I’m certain I’ll get this ‘human’ thing down eventually! After all, this time I have you to teach me, don’t I? My very own worldly, wonderfully weary guide! Street-smart and soft-hearted! A bit overcautious, maybe, but - ah!” He bumped into your side, “That’s part of your bewitching charm.”

“You’re lucky I’m too damn tired to argue.”

The former AI let out a low chuckle as he resumed walking, “So! What’s next, my pragmatic paragon? Crosswalk navigation? Sales tax? The mysterious ritual of laundromats?”

“...Maybe we can start with something small,” You finally said, following close behind, “I could take you around the block after work some days. At least get you more familiar with the area in case you ever get lost-”

Just as you both turned the corner, you felt a soft plink on your forehead.

You blinked up.

Another drop followed, then another.

And then.

Ka-BLAM!

A cannonball of thunder exploded directly overhead. With the sudden violence of a broken dam, the sky opened . You barely had time to flinch before the downpour hit - sheets of late summer rain dumped from the heavens in a sudden, furious torrent. It wasn’t a drizzle, it wasn’t a storm - some unholy entity just stole the ocean and dropped it on your heads.

“Shit! Son of a fucking -!”

“GAH! It’s a monsoon!” Caine shrieked, staring up at the sky like the rain personally insulted him, “Jumping jitterbugs! Who turned the faucet on?!”

“Fuck! Caine, the groceries! RUN! ”

You bolted, splashing through ankle-deep puddles, shoes squeaking with every step. Water kicked up in all directions like you were running through a shallow river.

Around you, people shrieked, laughed, cursed, sprinting for shelter and ducking under awnings, even huddling beneath flimsy newspapers. But there was no time. The apartment complex was only a few blocks away. You could make it - maybe - if your bags held out.

You glanced at Caine. He was right beside you, sprinting with all his might, already soaked to the bone and clutching his grocery bag like it held a bomb. His breath came in panicked bursts, his expression nothing but pure unbridled adrenaline.

“I take it back!” He shouted, “I take back everything I said about change! Change is HORRIBLE!”

“Almost there!” You bounded around another corner, nearly slipping. The apartment building was straight ahead. The home stretch,  “C’mon! We can make it!”

Caine didn’t answer. He just screamed.

You booked it like there was no tomorrow, legs burning and screaming at you like the maniac you were for the last ten or twenty feet until you reached the entrance. You both barreled through like a pair of fugitives, slamming the door firmly shut behind you. Now inside, the thunderous downpour outside muted to a gentle roar. Lightning flashed outside the dirty window. You could hear raindrops pitter-pattering against the old glass.

Your back pressed against the cold metal surface of the rusty door, gasping, drenched, heartbeat still pounding like hell in your ears. Water slowly trickled down your arms, drip-drip-dripping into little pools forming at your feet. It felt like you’d both swum home.

You looked over at Caine, who was doubled over, panting, arms wrapped tight around his soaked grocery bag like it was a sack of stolen bank money. He was completely doused, baptised, waterlogged even. His wavy, ink-black hair stuck to his forehead and neck in dripping curls, plastered like brushstrokes against the soft lines of his face. His crisp, white, newly-iron shirt was soaked through, nearly translucent and clinging to his skin like it had been painted on. Muscles flexed beneath the fabric as he adjusted his grip on the brown paper bag, the wet cotton catching on his skin like it didn’t want to let go.

Holy heartbreak in a wet t-shirt, the man looked like he’d stepped out of a shitty Hallmark movie.

For a moment, you both just stood there, breathing hard. The rain gently pitter-pattered against the dirty windows. A distant elevator dinged . Someone upstairs slammed a door. He looked at you then, blinking rain out of his eyes, chest still heaving from the sprint. A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth - half apology, half trouble - and for a moment, everything was still.

And then, Caine was laughing.

“Ha! Hoo boy! Now that was a rush!” He wheezed, pressing a hand to the front of his wet vest, “Just feel this ol’ ticker of mine! It’s really slamming in there! I used to imagine these kinds of sensations - simulate stress, mimic breath rate - but this is real! It's wild! Loud! Terrifying,” He laughed again, body shaking, “I had no idea living felt like this!”

You just stared at him, blinking, before you let out the tiniest puff of air. Barely even a sound.

Then, a snort.

Then a snicker.

And then, out of nowhere, you were laughing. 

At first, it felt like a mistake, like your body was acting without your permission. But it kept going, tumbling out of you in hoarse, broken bursts until you were doubled over, arms clutching your bag of ramen and useless snacks, eyes squeezed shut. It wasn’t pretty or elegant or sane - it was loud and gasping and unhinged, the kind of cackling that came out of nuthouses and HOA luncheons. 

Caine blinked, startled for half a second, before he was chortling madly alongside you.

You shook your head, wheezing, trying to pull yourself together, but every time you looked at him - sopping wet, grinning like a lunatic, grocery bag still cradled like sacred treasure - only fueled the excited bubbles tickling the inside of your stomach. You leaned back against the door again, sliding halfway down it, your breath hitching between helpless giggles.

Because your day had been a disaster. Because your legs still hurt. Because the cashier had a huge wart on her nose. Because bureaucracy is hell. Because you felt like you were flying. Because nothing made any damn sense anymore.

And because Caine - this ridiculous, unfiltered, unreal ringmaster - was standing there like he belonged in this trainwreck with you. You'd stabbed him in the back, shattered his whole reality, and he still looked at you like you hung the moon.

You laughed until it hurt. Until tears were mixing with the rain still running down to your cheeks. Until your throat burned and your ribs ached and all you could do was gasp out, “This is fucking insane.”

“Isn’t it though?” He chuckled, “I mean, what a tsunami! I'll admit I came pretty close to duplicating weather patterns on some of my adventures, but nothing compared to that hurricane-ish hullabaloo!”

You palmed at the tears under your eyes with one hand, trying but failing to regain your composure, “I think...” You sniffed, took a breath, “I think I dropped a roll of paper towels back there, but at least everything else survived.”

“Urm, make that almost everything, Prima,” Caine corrected, peeking into his bag, “I'm afraid I squeezed my groceries a little too perfectly, my dear. We've lost a bag of marshmallows.”

You barked another laugh, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your jacket, “Tragic. We’ll hold a vigil later.”

“I shall prepare a speech,” Caine said solemnly, raising a soggy finger to the sky, “They were brave, squishy little soldiers, and they will not be forgotten!”

“Gone, but not gooey,” You added, snorting again. Briefly you checked your own bag, “Luckily, the pound cake made it unscathed. C’mon, I think Debbie’s got some whipped cream in the fridge. We’ll dry off and stuff our faces until we puke.”

“An excellent suggestion...minus that last part,” He approved, straightening. Wordlessly he brushed against your side, and before you could think to say anything, both grocery bags were suddenly in his arms. Giving you a charming wink, Caine started his way up the stairs. You followed close behind, shoes squelching with every weak-kneed step.

By the time you reached the apartment, your wet clothes were beginning to chafe and you had goosebumps running up both arms. Caine’s lips were beginning to turn blue. For a minute you smiled in thought. Might be a good night for hot chocolate and some word games. Either way, you were looking forward to peeling off the immense load today’s activities brought you. That, and a nice, hot shower.

Fishing out your keys and letting the both of you in, you froze at the sight of Debbie standing furiously in the living room by the computer. Her posture was stiff with rage, her fists clenched at her sides, and her face was red and twisted with the kind of frustration that could only be bottled up over a painfully long amount of time. 

“Deb?” You moved cautiously, taking a step forward, trying your best to read the situation, “Everything okay?”

She huffed through her nose, like steam building in a kettle.

“I am going to kill. That. Fucking. BUNNY!”

Chapter Text

You hadn’t even peeled off your wet socks yet.

Instead you just stood there, dumbly, rainwater dripping from your clothes in rhythmic splatters onto the faux-hardwood floor. Thunder still crackled against the night sky, held back by only a foggy window and a pair of dingy curtains, but it was nothing compared to the storm threatening to break inside the apartment. Debbie, your ever-so-level-headed roommate, stood in the center of the living room like a pissed-off grizzly, her whole body framed by the dim lighting of the desk lamp and the ominous glow of the computer screen. She looked like a woman possessed, from the wild look in her twitchy eyes to the thin, trembling line of her frown. Her entire body was drawn tight and rigid, like a bowstring ready to snap, and for once you were afraid - very afraid - of what you had just walked into.

This wasn't the first time you'd seen her angry, no. You'd seen her flustered, frustrated, even tearful - especially when trying to hold it together in the circus - but not like this. This wasn't just angry. This was livid. This was a ‘ready to disembowel you if you so much as breathed in her direction’ kind of mad.

You gulped nervously. Whatever had happened to set Debbie of all people off must've been pretty darn awful.

Chewing your lip, you gingerly approached with all the caution of a frightened gerbil, “Okay, okay, let’s take it easy for a minute. No need to get excited.”

“Excited? Excited? ” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she began to pace maddeningly, fists shaking madly at her sides, “Ohh I’m way past excited, Beth! I’ll kill him! That...little bastard! He did this! It’s all his fault! I’ll bite his head clean off! I’ll feed it to the squirrels in Central Park! Bury the rest of him under a rose bush! I’ll...I’ll-”

“Wait. When you said ‘that fucking bunny’, you don't mean-?”

“Well of course!” She rounded on you fast enough to make you jump back, bumping into a gobsmacked Caine who still dripped over the threshold, “What other jerk has their heart set on ruining my whole life?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Any remainder of the light, bubbly feeling you’d felt just moments prior quickly vanished as you sidestepped out of the way to lean against the cracked wall, “Out of everything we’ve been going through lately, he just had to turn up at the worst time. Son of a fucking-”

“Woah now! How about we reign in those potty mouths and explain to me what's going on here?” Caine toed the door shut behind him and paraded into the kitchen, setting the soaked bags of groceries down before propping an elbow up on the counter, “Because, frankly, I have no idea what’s got you ladies in a stew.”

You jabbed a thumb at your roommate, “Debbie found Jax and regrets life itself.”

“Well that’s just fantastic, my dear!” He snatched your face in his hands, smooshing your cheeks with an enthusiastic chuckle, “Just look at how well you’re doing at finding all our cantankerous cast members! I must say, I’m thoroughly impressed by your astounding efforts,”  He released you as quickly as he’d caught you, humming to himself as he counted the digits on one hand, “So that’s...let’s see...” He held up five fingers, “Four down! Only three to go! You know, I really should think up a reward for when you find everyone, Starlet. Something splendiferously special, just for you...”

You blinked at him as he tapped his chin with a gloved finger, briefly in thought before the ringmaster shook himself, turning to Debbie with an eager grin.

“So! When can we expect to have our favorite trickster over? I’m sure I could get this apartment spick-and-span in time for visitors!”

Debbie growled, “If you think I'd ever invite-”

“I don’t think this is the right time, Caine,” You gently cut in, a hand on his shoulder guiding him to stand behind you in case your roommate lunged for the kill, “We’re not exactly big on inviting people over anyway, much less arrogant jackwagons who-wait. What did he do?” 

Deborah threw her hands up in frustration, “He hacked me!” 

"What? ”

You pushed past Debbie and made your way into the living area in three steps flat, pulling out the computer chair to sit and glare at the bright computer screen, left open on her personal account. Or what was left of it, anyway.

“Crap.”

Debbie stabbed a finger toward the monitor like it had cursed her entire bloodline, barely able to contain her fury at the obvious changes that had been made to her profile page. Nothing inappropriate, at least, but the entire account had clearly been redone. From what you could see, the profile picture had been deleted, all her personal information was wiped clean, and...

“He’s deleting my friends!” She waved a hand at the screen, “I can’t believe him! Not only am I completely locked out of my account and our group page, but he’s getting rid of my contacts like they’re expired coupons!”

“Son of a bitch,” You muttered under your breath, mainly so Caine couldn’t hear you, “How exactly did he-?”

“He sent me a link,” Debbie interrupted, her face crumbling, “At first, I wasn’t even sure it was him. You were out for the day and I’d just got back from my shift at the ER, so I thought I’d vet this one myself, just to give you a break? And, well, he actually seemed nice at first! And I thought, maybe, he had been missing us just as much as we missed everyone else. That all that awful behavior in the circus was just his way of coping. Then he sent me a link to some cat video, and...”

“Oh no."

“I was tired! I didn’t think he...” Debbie groaned, running a hand through a mess of frazzled hair, “I thought he had changed. I’m such an idiot. ”

She slouched against your chair, palming her forehead as if trying to fight off the biggest migraine in existence. With her long hours working in the hospital, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was dehydrated as well as exhausted.

You felt bad for her. Debbie had always been the one to soothe, to mediate, to calm the chaos around her. The kind of person who’d step between two shouting strangers and offer a nervous smile, apologizing when she got cursed out. It was like a superpower for her. But now? Now she looked like a snuffed out candle, wispy and droopy and fresh out of spark. Utterly used up. Her yellow hair, frizzy and unkempt from a long day's work, was sticking up at jagged angles. Like static electricity had danced up her spine. The bags under her eyes were a deep purple, dark and ugly, like a pair of leeches that were slowly sucking on what little energy she had left.

You glanced back at the kitchenette, where Caine was rummaging through the bags looking for goodies. If only things weren’t so complicated right now...

“How many?” You turned your attention to Deborah, who suddenly looked like she’d aged twenty years.

“Three...maybe four so far,” She shrugged, “They weren’t really close friends, exactly, but that’s not the point. Jax has no right to be in my account messing everything up! I really wish we’d locked him in a box and left him to rot in that crappy video game.”

“Oh? Did someone mention the amazing digital wonderland we used to call home?” Caine popped up behind you both - when the hell did he get there? - a slice of pound cake in one hand the other came to rest atop your damp head, “Reminiscing about the good ol’ days, are we? All these heartfelt reunions must be making you feel all sorts of nostalgic! I know I’m getting misty-eyed just thinking about-”

“Stop. Just... stop,” Debbie slowly ground out, rubbing at the spot between her eyes, “I can’t do this right now, Caine. You’re not helping right now...” She let out a tired huff of air, “You never did.”

“Deb-”

“Ha-ha!” Caine waved it off, brushing the damp curls out of his eyes before wagging a finger at her, “That’s a good one, Ragatha! Really! Way to tickle the old funny b-”

“No. I mean it,” She looked at him through heavy eyes, staring at him like a wounded soldier coming home from war. Weathered. Battered. Not giving a damn. She flinched away when he tried to pat her on the back. You squirmed in your seat, “I never...I never liked living in that circus. It was...horrible. The adventures, the people... Jax. You let him get away with everything. Do you really think we liked it in there?”

Caine’s smile dropped. His posture stiffened.

“You never stopped him,” She muttered, shaking her head as she stared numbly at the carpet, “You never even tried.”

You felt his gloved hand slowly slide away from your hair, leaving behind a wet chill that slithered its way down your back. Turing in your chair, your eyes darted warily between the war-torn nurse and the former AI. Caine’s face wavered, expression shifting and eyes darting to focus on anything but the person in front of him. 

His voice came out low, not in a cartoonish cadence, but as something oozing with defensiveness and laced with innocent vulnerability, “That...that’s not true.”

“Really?” Debbie countered, her voice strained, “Then where the hell were you every time Jax made someone cry? When he smashed Gangle’s mask? When he laughed while Kinger screamed in the corner for hours?”

Caine’s brows furrowed, his hands balling into fists, “That’s not true.”

His words fell of deaf ears as Deborah pressed on, eyes now glaring straight through him, “Or how about when we’d ask for the adventures to be less violent? Less intense?” She stuck a finger directly in your face, her tone chillingly even, “You never listened to any of us. Not even her.”

“Debbie. ”

“That’s not true!”

“Debbie, stop.”

“Sending us off to play pretend didn’t fix the problem. It never did. Not once,” She slowly bit out, “It was all you. You knew we were suffering. You knew we hated being in that circus. Why didn’t you actually do something about it?”

“I did my best!" Caine finally shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him. It was sharp, electric, almost painful. You froze, knuckles white on the arms of your chair as the rain-soaked ringmaster unleashed everything in Debbie’s face, “You don’t know what it was like! I didn’t have control over him any more than I did the rest of you! It was my job to make everyone happy! I tried, I... Hrragh!”

The last word broke apart as a choked, furious howl escaped him. He spun away from Debbie, arms flailing wildly like they had a mind of their own. His soaked slacks clung awkwardly to his legs as he lashed out, kicking the coffee table with a hollow thud.

Then he bent over, fingers twisting through his dripping black hair, shoulders hunched and trembling. The raw frustration rolled off him in waves.

“I...I tried...” He muttered, seemingly more to himself than either of you. 

You clung to the edge of your chair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded, breath caught in your throat, eyes wide and dry. Debbie, though clearly shaken by the outburst, barely flinched. What she said next sliced through the air, as if torn from her throat by force.

“Then maybe your best wasn’t good enough.”

Caine reeled back, like he'd been slapped in the face.

He gaped at your exhausted roommate with a look of shock, hurt, and unfettered confusion. Debbie avoided his bewildered gaze altogether, wrapping her arms around herself with a guilty grimace. Then his eyes met yours, questioning, briefly glinting with the smallest flicker of hope. As if he was expecting you to jump to his defense, chastise Debbie for saying something so heartlessly cruel, tell him that your time spent in the circus was the most amazing and magical thing you'd ever experienced in your entire life. 

What he got was nothing but awkward silence. Caine could only stare at you, hands splayed out hopelessly, and something twisted violently in your chest, like a knife digging into your ribcage. Your fingers twitched, mouth moving in a vain attempt to say something, anything! But you just couldn’t cough up the boulder lodged in your throat, and someone had superglued your feet to the floor. The only part of you that could move was your head, and even that took effort. Wincing, you tore your gaze away, shame curling in your gut.

His shoulders dropped, not with drama, but with the slackness of someone who’d once held up an entire world and suddenly realized no one needed it anymore. His hands, once outstretched as if pleading for understanding, drifted downward and hung at his sides, limp and useless.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said it all: something had just crumbled inside him.

He swallowed.

“Excuse me,” Caine said stiffly, turned, and slowly trudged down the hallway.

There was no theatrical spin, no puff of glitter or comical exit. Just a man, retreating with the weight of guilt clinging to his shoulders. And you could only look on with the feeling of someone taking a battering ram to your ribcage. 

The door to his - or, rather, your - room clicked shut behind him, the sound cutting through the thick tension that still lingered in the stale apartment air.

Debbie stood rooted to the spot, chest rising and falling smoothly, evenly. Like she was nothing more than a run-down, overworked animatronic. Her face was somehow blank, stoic, frozen in time and unaware of the downtrodden world around her, gaze boring into a plaster wall that had been begging for a fresh coat of paint for the last century. Her hands, clean and sanitized, trembled at her sides, fingers balled tightly into the hem of her scrub.

The silence hung heavy. It wasn’t the good kind, the kind that gently slipped away after the heated words were said and everyone got things out of their system. No, this silence pressed down, thick and suffocating, wrapping around the room like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

And then, slowly, Debbie’s expression cracked, the anger and frustration draining from her war-torn face like a switch had been flipped. Her breath hitched, lips quivering. Finally, she turned to you, eyes red-rimmed and glassed over.

“Beth…” She started, then faltered. Her voice was hoarse, rough from shouting and holding back tears, “I’m sorry.”

You rubbed your face, dragging your palms down over damp skin.

“Deb. Just...what the hell? ”

Debbie took a hesitant step toward you, then another, her arms curling around herself like she had stepped into a freezer, “I...I didn’t mean- oh jeez, I didn’t mean to yell like that. Not at you,” Her voice cracked again, gentler now, “You both just got home. You didn’t deserve...I didn’t mean...”

Your jaw tightened, but you exhaled slowly and nodded.

“It’s okay,” You tried to reassure her, though your voice couldn’t have sounded less convincing, “You just had a rough day. I get it.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Debbie wiped at her face with the back of her hand, smearing tears and mascara across her cheek in a single frantic swipe, “I...I lost it. Jax, he just... ooh he just pissed me off so much, and I took it out on the both of you when the real problem was...oh, Beth, and you’ve been making so much progress with Caine, too. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said some of that stuff to him...” She hesitated, gaze flicking toward the hallway, “...even if some of it was true.”

You crossed your arms, the damp fabric of your sleeves cold against your skin, “This wasn’t the right time, Debbie, but I understand why you snapped. Caine may be oblivious, but he’s not blameless. We all remember what it was like back there.”

“I know,” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “But I still…I didn’t have to tear him down like that in front of you. I just…” She shook her head, eyes clouding again. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides again, but this time there was no rage in them - just helplessness, “I feel like such an idiot.”

You stood and crossed the room in two long steps, ignoring the way your jeans chafed and stung in all the wrong places, “You’re not an idiot, Debbie,” You gently told her, a comforting hand squeezing her shoulder, “You’re a good person. That’s why you hoped things would be different. That’s how you were able to help keep from going batshit crazy in the circus. You’ve always believed there was a bright side to everything and everyone. And for the most part, you’ve been right.”

She puffed out a quiet, miserable laugh, wiping away the tears on the tip of her nose, “Not today, apparently.”

You offered a small, tired smile, “Jax’s little stunt is just a reminder that not everyone wants to see the good side of things. Some people will burn the lifeboat just to watch you drown.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned into you a little, not minding the way your clothes stuck to her side like sticky tape. The weight of her day - her fury, her regret, her exhaustion - pressed into you, and for a hot minute you resisted the urge to punch yourself in the face. Weeks of following Caine around, teaching him, helping him acclimate to human life, making sure he didn’t get himself robbed or scammed or horribly mauled, when he wasn't the only one who needed you. Here stood your other roommate, resigned to a role of standing by patiently and nodding sagely as a chaotic ringmaster paraded around the apartment, worked to the bone and left without any help of her own, forced to take extra shifts to cover expenses because somebody was too busy playing adventure with their not-quite-exactly boyfriend, and now driven to the brink of madness by the one person who strived to make her life a living hell.

And now she was apologizing to you for not being able to take the pressure. For breaking down and crumbling when anyone with a pulse would do exactly the same thing.

You allowed the all too familiar heaviness of self-loathing to settle in your stomach as you rubbed Deborah’s arm soothingly, saying nothing as you let her use your body as a support beam. Eventually, her wet hiccups died down and the shivering stopped.

For a moment, your eyes wandered down the hall and lingered on your bedroom door. There was a nagging little tug in the back of your brain, but you quickly dismissed it and instead focused on the person whimpering into your shoulder. Debbie needed you right now. Caine would just have to wait.

“Thanks,” She murmured by your ear, “For not snapping back. For…not giving up on me when I fall apart like this.”

You shook her shoulder playfully, smiling, trying to lighten the mood despite the sullen fog that still hung in the air, “Hey, life’s a bitch, Deb. We all make mistakes. Don’t worry about upsetting me. It’d take a lot more than some fight to piss me off.”

At that, she gave the smallest smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was a start.

Behind you, the ticking of the old kitchen clock sounded louder than ever. Rain still drummed politely against the window, pitter-pattering in a smooth and calming rhythm that sent a pleasant wave of calm washing over you. It was a welcoming bit of white noise that seemed to quickly banish the last bit of nervous energy that still desperately clung to the air. 

“Why don’t you go get a shower?” You suggested, nudging her towards the hallway, “I’ll see if I can get your account back from King Dumbass.”

“Are you sure you can handle him?” Debbie was already shuffling towards the bathroom despite herself, “Jax can be a little...you know.”

“Trust me Deb,” You pulled out the swivel chair, ignoring how your soaked clothes pinched your skin, “If he tries anything dumb with me, I’ll reach through the computer and strangle him myself.”

“Heh. That I’d like to see...” The bathroom door shut with a timid click, and you were all alone.

Time to put a rabbit in his place.

You sat back down at the computer with a look on your face that could kill. With luck, Jax had only managed to hack Deborah’s page - you were still fine. More to the point, you were the one with the admin rights to the server. You cracked your knuckles and logged in, a crooked, devious smile tugging at your lips. This wouldn’t take long. No, not long at all.

He was still online. That smug little asswipe. Chatting it up with Misa who, surprisingly, didn’t seem to mind the ex-rabbit’s presence.

xXMasuku-ChanXx: So...what did you think of the prototypes I made?

SuperJackAss69: eh. kinda corny, but hey!
SuperJackAss69: you do you, ribbons

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Oh. Do you think anyone will like them?

SuperJackAss69: i’m sure some internet weirdo will buy them. bet he’s already got an empty jar hot and ready on the shelf~

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Ew! Jax!

SuperJackAss69: hey, no dead naming, Misaaa

You narrowed your eyes, fingers already flying across the keyboard. Now was a good time as ever.

Ballet_Sucks: It won’t just be your name that’s dead when I’m through with you, you prick!

You hit ‘Enter’ with a force that made your whole desk shake.

SuperJackAss69: well hello to you too
SuperJackAss69: now don’t tell me
SuperJackAss69: hmm...that you, Tinker Bell?

Your nose wrinkled. You could practically hear the oozing smugness in your head.

Ballet_Sucks: My name’s Beth, you insufferable turd!

SuperJackAss69: yeesh, that any way to treat your beloved savior?

xXMasuku-ChanXx: Uhhhh I think my aunt's calling me for something! Gtg!

Ping! Misa was gone.

You exhaled through your nose. Figures. She always bailed the second things got uncomfortable. Not that you could blame her, though. Jax was always a scumbag.

SuperJackAss69: aw, see what you did? you scared poor Gangle away  

Ballet_Sucks: Give me one good reason why I shouldn't permaban your ass.

SuperJackAss69: what for?

Ballet_Sucks: You mean other than hacking Deborah's account, making a mess and deleting her friends?  

SuperJackAss69: how did you find out about that? dollface give you her number or something? 

Ballet_Sucks: We live together, moron!

SuperJackAss69: huh. small world

You leaned back, glaring at the screen. Part of you wondered how much of this was a game to him. All of it, if you had to guess.

Ballet_Sucks: I just can’t believe you’d do something like this. It’s bad enough you were an ass back in the circus, now you gotta be one in real life too? The hell, man!

SuperJackAss69: well MAYBE I could, if licorice-hair wasn’t dumb enough to have C&A employees hiding in her friends list

The cruel realization dropped on you like an anvil, the weight of what he was implying beginning to crush down on your shoulders. The air left your lungs like you’d been punched.

You reread the sentence twice, three, four times, hoping and praying by some miracle that the words on your screen would somehow change. They didn’t. Your limbs went cold. A sick, leaden feeling settled into your gut. You pushed your chair back slightly, breath shaky.

No. No, no, please no.

Ballet_Sucks: Fuck

SuperJackAss69: relax

SuperJackAss69: none of them have been active in a looong time. you gals are safe for now

Your hands hovered over the keyboard, stiff with dread as you forced them to continue typing.

Ballet_Sucks: Shit. Do you really think they’d come after us?

SuperJackAss69: Anything’s possible. Why take the risk?

“Son of a fucking,” Your scrubbed your hands over your face, inhaling sharply through your nose as your heart thudded anxiously inside your ears. Your chest felt tight, and your sopping wet clothes didn’t help the matter. As much as you had wanted to tear your fellow circus escapee a proverbial new one, knowing just how close a call your roommate had without even realizing it was enough to douse any simmering contempt that smoldered. The fucking rabbit had saved your asses. Again.

Ballet_Sucks: Any chance Kinger’s tried to contact you?

You leaned forward, elbows braced on the desk. It was a straightforward question, one that would quickly decide whether or not you’d have to grab your roommates, your valuables, and get the hell out of there. You tapped your nails against the spacebar while waiting for a reply, a tension pooling low in your stomach that made you want to vomit.

SuperJackAss69: Oh you mean his majesty, owner of the whole shitty company?

SuperJackAss69: haven’t heard from him

You exhaled slowly, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. Good. That was good. Maybe. Most likely. Assuming he wasn’t lying. Crap.

Ballet_Sucks: Ok, cool. Let me know if you do. We kinda all agreed to go no-contact until we know more about his role in everything.

You gnawed the inside of your cheek, thinking back to that late-night conversation. Deborah pacing, you curled up on the floor with a blanket and a headache, both of you arguing about who to trust. Caine sleeping, completely oblivious.

Kinger had always seemed...off. Too far gone to be harmless. But now?

Now you couldn’t afford to be wrong.

SuperJackAss69: ouch, way to give him the cold shoulder 

SuperJackAss69: still, gotta play it safe, right?

Ballet_Sucks: Yeah. Right.

Ballet_Sucks: Listen, could you just give Debbie her account back? She won't add those people again, I’ll talk to her. But she’s still pretty pissed about what you did.

You didn’t expect him to agree. Not easily, anyway. You’d wear him down, though. Threaten him, if you had to. He wasn’t getting away with this one. Not this time.

SuperJackAss69: sure thing. was planning on giving it back anyway once I was done. i’m not always the bad guy, you know

What?

You couldn’t help but gape at the screen, completely caught off guard by the sudden willingness. Jax cooperating? That was...unexpected. Suspicious, even. Was he actually playing fair? It seemed unlikely, but maybe Debbie was onto something. Maybe the most grating person you had ever come to meet really was trying to better himself. That was a hard maybe, though. Still, after a beat, you let your shoulders relax. Slightly.

Ballet_Sucks: Thanks. Listen, you’re a nightmare at the best of times, but I guess. Thank you? For catching that for us, and for finding a way out of the circus. We couldn’t have done that without you.

You hesitated after sending it, watching your cursor flicker in the silence. It felt weird to say it. But it was true.

SuperJackAss69: don’t mention it, girlie

SuperJackAss69: y’know, I’m actually surprised you decided to leave. got tired of having your own digital manchild to manipulate? 

And there it was.

Your breath caught in your throat, heat prickling up the back of your neck like a thousand tiny needles. You sat up straighter, suddenly defensive.

He did not just-

Ballet_Sucks: That is none of your business, twat.

SuperJackAss69: touchy

SuperJackAss69: well, knowing Caine, he’s either forgotten about you completely or he’s crying into his millionth bucket of ice cream, waiting for the day his true love will return~ 

SuperJackAss69: that is if they haven’t shut down the game already. kinda mean, if you think about it

You stared at the screen, your pulse drumming in your ears. That familiar ache twisted low in your chest - the one you tried really hard not to name. You forced it down. This wasn’t the time. Not with him.

Ballet_Sucks: Fuck off! It was more complicated than that!

SuperJackAss69: sure. whatever. Freak.

You grit your teeth, seething.

Not because it was the worst thing he’d called you - not by a long shot - but because it landed with the precision of someone who knew way too much about you for your liking. Maybe you all should’ve left him in the circus. One less sleazeball in the world to worry about.

Ballet_Sucks: Could I just get Deb’s account back? Please??

SuperJackAss69: Fiiine, I’ll DM you the password

A melodic blip notified you a moment later. You clicked into the private message window... and recoiled.

Ballet_Sucks: That’s disgusting.

SuperJackAss69: you’re welcome. talk to you later, Beth

You hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then...

Ballet_Sucks: Right. Thanks, Jax.

A flicker of something - not quite gratitude, not quite resentment - lingered in your chest. He may’ve been a creep, a troll, a walking migraine with a keyboard, but…he had helped. Sort of. 

Only time would tell whether or not your gratitude was a mistake.

SuperJackAss69: eh, call me Ethan

SuperJackAss69: stay safe

You waited for him to log off, a dreaded feeling sitting in the middle of your chest as you slumped back in your chair, eyeing the crumbled grocery receipt you'd so hastily scribbled the password on. What an ass. He just had to get one last jab at your poor roommate, didn't he? As if she wasn't high-strung enough. 

At least it was over with. Debbie could fix her account, and you'd warn her about vetting people before adding them to her friends list. That still sent a cold, slimy sense of unease slithering down your spine. Just how long had she had them on her page? Since before the circus? Were they the ones who had given her that headset?

Jax- Ethan had been right. You and Debbie had been careless this whole time. But you had just been so distracted and...ugh. What an absolute mess. Well, at least there was still time to do damage control. Blocking everyone that had been unfriended would be a start, but would it be enough? How much did they know? Were the three of you even safe here?

You heard the bathroom door open, followed by the soft swishing of socked feet on old carpet. Debbie's soft humming drifted into the room, something tuneless and content, the kind of sound people made when they were trying to convince themselves they were okay.

You sat up just as she padded into view, towel still wrapped around her body, her damp curls clinging to her cheeks. The humming stopped when she saw your face.

"Did you get it?" She asked quietly.

Wordlessly, you peeled the crumpled receipt off your desk and pressed it into her palm. Your fingers lingered there for a second too long.

She glanced down at the scrawled text. Her nose scrunched immediately.

“Ugh. Seriously?” She tilted the scrap away like it stunk, “Why is it always something gross with him?”

You managed a dry laugh, the first one in what felt like hours, “Because he knows we’ll react. And because he’s Jax. Or... Ethan, apparently.”

Debbie raised an eyebrow, mouthing the name like she was testing it out for poison, “Wow. I guess it’s just weird, is all. Learning everybody’s names. Almost seems more and more like everything was just a dream, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. A dream,” You rubbed the base of your neck, a ball of tightness still twisting through your nerves like a snake, “At least you got your account back. It wasn’t hard, actually. Would you believe he was actually nice, for once?”

She gave a small snort, folding the receipt in half, “No.”

You stayed seated, the light of the screen washing over your face as your thoughts circled back to what Jax had told you. How his words loomed over you like a predator. It made your hands clammy just thinking about it.

How much danger were you all in right now?

"Hey, Deb?" You suddenly called after her.

She turned in the hallway, already halfway to her door.

"Maybe…just be careful, alright? With your friends list. Just for a while."

“Oh, uh...okay. Any particular reason?”

“I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Just get some rest, okay?”

Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, “Okay, I will.”

"Night," You offered, a deep yawn overtaking you. You were tired. Bone-deep tired.

"Night, Beth."

The moment her door clicked shut, you pushed yourself to your feet, every muscle stiff and sore from how long you’d been hunched over at the desk. A brief glance at the clock left you shock at how much time had passed. Shit, and you had work in the morning, too. Fantastic. Well, if you could wrestle yourself out of these damp clothes and into something more comfortable, you might still manage your shift tomorrow with a few hours of sleep under your belt.

You crossed the narrow apartment in silence, each step toward your room weighing you down with a complicated mix of dread and guilt. Was Caine still awake? Was he busy sulking? He hadn’t exactly taken Debbie’s bottled-up confession very well. Hell, he was never one for criticism, and that argument had gone well beyond the negative feedback he’d been used to. You didn’t really want to think about the long-term effects of this. Part of you wanted to avoid your bedroom altogether. But your pajamas were in there, and you felt really, really cold.

You hesitated at your door, knuckles resting lightly on the frame. Gently, you rapped once, twice.

“Caine?”

You knocked again.

“Caine? It’s me. I’m coming in, okay?”

You cracked the door open, head barely poking inside. The room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the cheap plug-in nightlight you’d wedged into the wall days ago. You pushed the door open carefully, eyes immediately scanning the far side of the room.

There he was, curled up awkwardly under your comforter, back facing you. Aside from the lack of gargled snoring, the only sign he was still awake was the fist quiet, rigid way his fingers curled into the blanket near his shoulder, gripping it like a lifeline.

Gingerly, you stepped into the darkness, toeing your way to the dresser with the grace of a three-legged cat. Something soft and wet squelched under your foot - Caine’s clothes. He hadn’t even bothered to throw them in the hamper. Of course. Sighing, you picked the squishy mass up with one hand, holding it out like a biohazard as you snuck closer to him.

“I’m just grabbing some pajamas,” You murmured, voice low and steady, more for his sake than your own, “Didn’t mean to wake you.” As if he’d actually been sleeping.

There was no response. He didn’t even budge. If it weren’t for the way his body silently rose and fell, you could’ve sworn you were looking at a corpse. 

You lingered at the drawer a second longer than necessary, fingers hesitating on the handle.

“Hey...are you doing okay?” You tried, grabbing the dry nightclothes and shoving them under your arm, “I know Debbie said some things that might upset you. Not saying she’s...completely wrong, but if you want to get it off your chest, I’m here.”

You waited. Nothing.

Was he really still awake?

“Caine? Hey...” Despite yourself, you crept closer to the bed, “Listen, you don’t have to talk, but I don’t want to leave things like this. C’mon, ringmaster...”

Fwhmp.

Just as your free hand touched his shoulder, the blanket whipped up over his head in one harsh, deliberate motion. The comforter puffed up, then slumped as he huddled further under it, cutting you off completely.

Your jaw tensed.

“Okay, fine,” You muttered through clenched teeth, “Fine. Go ahead, shut me out. Real mature.”

There was a loud slapping noise as you threw Caine’s clothes into the basket in the corner, turning towards the door with a huff. That’s how it was going to be? Something bad happens, Caine shuts down, and you were supposed to tiptoe around like everything was your fault? Just because you didn’t jump in to fervently defend him? Honestly! It’s not like he never knew you guys were unhappy in the circus! Granted, some were more vocal about it than others, but still! He was acting like an overgrown, spoiled child!

Your hand wrapped around the knob. But then you stopped. Breathed. Let the anger bead off you in rivets.

Slowly, you took one last look at Caine’s pouting form.

“You know…this hasn’t been easy for me, either.”

You didn’t wait for a reply.

You just stepped out and shut the door behind you. Stripped yourself of the second skin clinging to your body. Dried the rest of you off with a fresh towel. Threw the frilly nightdress over your head - crap, how did Debbie’s clothes get mixed in with yours? - and cringing at the faint smell of fabric softener and medical practice. 

You crossed the room barefoot, the floor cold beneath your toes, and dropped onto the old loveseat. The cushions dipped dramatically. You fumbled to turn off the nightstand lamp and settled into your cramped, makeshift bed. You curled your legs under yourself, pulling the faded throw blanket over your shoulders with a groan.

The storm had since passed, taking with it the peaceful white noise of rain that would’ve quickly lulled you into slumber. You tossed, turned, trying to get comfortable. You stared at the ceiling, eyes wide in the dark, and tried not to think about the man curled up all cozy and comfy in your bed. Tried not to think about the hurt look on his face or how hurt his stupid feelings were.

Tried not to think about him at all.

Eventually, you cocooned yourself completely under your blanket, trying to drown out the sound of the clock ticking in the kitchen. Never ceasing, never stopping.

You didn’t sleep a wink that night.