Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The neck of her dress itched. 

For some peculiar reason, that was the first thing she noticed when she stirred awake. Then she tried to talk, tried to mutter a question to herself, and found she had no mouth, no teeth, no tongue- there was no air in her lungs, no hollow space for a throat. 

She inhaled, through her nose, and found she could. Again, she tried to speak. 

“What the fuck?” She tried to say, and was pleased to find she could. 

Now her eyes opened. She was staring at the inside of a circus tent, or an obscenely giant kid’s playpen. There were building blocks strewn out in front of her, some stacked, others having been knocked down by some immense force. The floor under her was- 

“What the fuck ?”

She shifted her feet under her, hands reaching to touch the strange button-round loafers she was wearing. But as her fingers reached for the soles, seemingly sealed to her feet in smooth brown, she found she was missing one. Four fingers, made of a fuzzy peach felt. The same as her shoes. 

“What the fuck? ” Now she was screaming the words, stumbling backwards as if trying to run away from her own limbs. “What the actual fucking fuck -”

Now the lungs she did not have were heaving, begging for air, she was falling over herself, over the thick, cartoonish shoes she had never seen before. Her hand found the end of the wall behind her and she turned and ran through the hallway. She wasn’t sure where she was going. Maybe she was suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning. She was in her garage, this was all a hallucination, and the only way out would be to run the hell out of there. 

She reached the end of the hallway and turned left, only to find a wall five feet away. It had a little shelf with plastic plants in plastic pots, painted with the clumsy hand of a child. Above the shelf was a rectangular mirror, smooth and perfect. 

She stared at herself. 

“What the fuck.” 

She whispered the words, a bare murmur, and watched the red material that was where her mouth should be as it moved. She inspected her face, drawing closer to the mirror, touching her face with one of her fingers. She was pleased to find she could feel the sensation, even though her hand seemed to be covered with a thick glove, clearly concealing her index finger from her. 

She stared at the digits for a moment. Clearly, the poisoning would wear off soon. She had to be out of the garage by now, that running had left her winded and her garage could only fit two cars, hers and-

And?

Anyways, this was interesting. When the poisoning wore off, she would be able to tell him about it. He should be coming home, soon. He would like this story. 

She pulled at her hand in order to remove the glove and found she could not. She looked back up at herself, half disinterested, half intent on memorizing every inch of this strange new face she wore. Her button eye was blue, stitched to the mask covering her face with gray string. She stared at herself again, at the red material making up her thick head of hair, at the light bow on top of it. She was wearing a dress, blue with a weird cuff at her neck and puffy sleeves. She touched a hand to her eyes, now. She could see from both of them, oddly enough. Carbon monoxide  didn't explain the vivid sense of touch she had, but it did explain this strange hallucination. 

Her hand stopped picking at her button. 

Was that what carbon monoxide poisoning was? 

She shrugged. What else could it be but poison-induced hallucination? Nothing else explained it. She was not a doll, and she did not take drugs. That was just ridiculous. She was a woman. A real, human woman. She had clearly put the headset on in her garage and forgot to turn off her car. She had been in a rush to put it on, she remembered. She was sure she should remember why, as she remembered the utter fear and panic she had felt as her shaking hands had fumbled over the device, but the details were fading into her brain. 

Hm. Maybe the poisoning wasn’t wearing off. 

Her heart started pounding, then, the fear gripping her again. Was she going to die? 

She shut her eyes, chest heaving, palms clenched closed into a tight fist. If she still had nails, the strength of the action would have dug her nails into the flesh of her hands, drawing blood. It was fine. It would be fine. She would be alright and waking up sometime-

“You new?”

The voice was almost condescending, as if she was a child who had snuck into a place she should not be in. She opened her eyes and looked beside her reflection in the mirror. 

There was a lanky, tall, purple rabbit behind her. At least, she thought it was a rabbit. He had the ears of one, the fur of one, but was otherwise humanoid, smiling at her with yellow teeth and matching, slanted eyes. The eyes followed her like those of a cat’s, like he was studying her, but the disinterest in his expression, in his tone and slouched body, made her feel like she was not worth his time. 

She blinked. “And what the hell are you supposed to be?”

He scoffed, hands crossing in front of him. “Jax to you.”

“What’s a Jax?”

“My name, you dumbass.” 

She turned back to the mirror. “Okay, then, Jax. Hello. Leave me, yeah?”

He sauntered on next to her, thick rabbit feet muffling the sound along with the red carpet. “You’re oddly relaxed about this.” 

She glanced at him without turning her head. “It’ll wear off in a second.”

His eyebrows raised and his smile returned, sly and cocky. “Oh, now I get it. You’re still in the denial phase.”

“This is a hallucination,” she said simply, beginning to tug at one of her hair strands. It hurt to do that, like she was actually pulling at her hair. She winced. “I’m just hallucinating.”

“Oh yeah?” Jax said. “That ain’t a new one. What’s your excuse, then? Pongo’s was a med overdose. He doesn’t even remember what the meds were for, though I suspect bipolar disorder because the guy is an ass.”

“And you aren’t?”

He grinned. “I’m just not in denial about it, doll.”

She sighed and turned back to the mirror. “Well, I forgot to turn off my car. Carbon monoxide poisoning. But don’t worry, hallucination, I'm pretty sure I've already left the garage. It should fade off soon.” 

“Uhuh. Did you put the headset on in a garage?”

She nodded. 

“In your garage?” 

Again, she nodded, this time adding an exasperated huff of breath.

“And where did you plug it in?” he asked. 

She rolled her eyes, now. “In the wall. Garages have wall plugs.” 

“On the floor? You were sitting on the floor, wearing a VR headset, and didn't turn off your car?"  

Now she hesitated. "I guess. What else explains this? I don't take drugs.” 

Now his smile was wide, his eyebrows raised knowingly, like he was about to tell her a giant, naughty secret. 

“Sweetheart, the cable doesn’t reach more than five feet. The headset takes time to boot up. And you don't look stupid. This ain't carbon monoxide poisoning.” He leaned in, so she could feel his breath on her skin. “And I think you know it.”

The screen was gigantic, swooping over the table, engrossing her in the pixels. She stared at the numbers and codes, looking for something. As if she could find it in the binary, in the zeros and ones that were endless and nothing and absolutely everything. She was typing something, hands trembling as she pressed enter, or send, she wasn’t sure which because the panic was on her, clogging her throat, making her mind go foggy. The headset was somewhere on the desk but she could not tear her eyes away from the code. There were so many cables, so much light, the buzzing humm of multiple machines keeping the numbers alive like they were life support- Her hands found the headset and she looked beside her. To her left. 

She could not remember what she was looking at, beside her. 

She kept looking, eyes fixed to her left, as she slipped the headset on and the zeros and ones melted into an enveloping, cold darkness. 

“Holy shit,” she gasped, the words a soft inhale.

“Aaand, here we go,” Jax said, smile still wide. 

“Holy shit,” she started to say, over and over- “Holy fucking shit, holy fuck, holy shit-”  

Her hands clamped around her skin and started to pull at her face, trying to tear it off her, trying to reveal muscle or flesh or bone underneath. 

“Don’t do that,” Jax said, sounding bored. “That was the first thing I tried. You think I like these ears?”

“Oh my GOD!” she screamed, stumbling around the hallway, throwing herself at the walls and floor as she fought herself, fought to see her skin again. “Oh my fucking god!”

A giant mouth appeared next to her, popping into existence as the room suddenly filled with lighthearted music. In the storm that was her panic she found herself looking for the speakers that were playing the song, but she found none. 

“Hello, new human!” the mouth exclaimed, two eyes staring at her from where the tongue should be. His voice was gleeful, like that of a sports commentator. 

She screamed and hit the motherfucker with one of the potted plants, straight in the eyes.

Chapter Text

Her name was Ragatha. 

In another wave of pure panic, she had realized she didn’t remember her name. The mouth, Caine, had forgiven her by now, and baptized her as Ragatha in front of Jax and nobody else. This partly because, according to Caine, the rest were all sleeping in the rooms. Jax was walking beside her, expression unamused. Caine was floating in front of them, singing the same tune from earlier, twirling his cane without using his hands. 

“We can’t sleep, by the way,” Jax whispered, leaning in to say it by her ear. He was easily a foot taller than her, so he had to bend. His yellow teeth were bared into a smug smile. “Caine’s given us rooms so we can not go insane, but we can’t sleep.”

“I’ve got a room?” She asked him. For some reason, the panic of the situation was slowly ebbing away. Maybe she really was poisoned. 

He shrugged. “Sure you do. It’s in front of mine.” 

She stared at him. 

“What?” he stared back. 

“You going to show me?”

“Oh, look at you, one hour here and you think you’re the queen.” he shrugged again. “Sure, I’ll show you, but only because I want to, dollface.” 

“Stop calling me that,” she hissed. 

He grinned widely at her. When he spoke she could not tear her eyes away from the way his mouth moved, showing teeth but never quite opening. 

“What? I like to see you squirm.”

“Yeah? Well fuck you, Bonnie,” she muttered. 

“Ah!” Cain said, suddenly turning around and swooping in low, near her face. “We do not use that word here!” 

“What? Fuck?” 

Cain pointed at her with his staff, alarmed. “That word is forbidden here in the amazing Digital Circus!”

She swirled on Jax again. “Alright, then, bitch -”

“Oh my word ,” Cain exclaimed, aghast. “Why, this is a children-friendly videogame, Ragatha! I deem it necessary you apologize!” 

Ragatha stared at him. She wasn’t sure if she should test him further, see if he really was just this whimsical little guy trying his best to keep them entertained. The idea of him not being like this, the idea of him being a real threat and not just a stupid, joyful character, scared her into silence. 

“Sorry, Cain,” she murmured, low. 

“That’s quite alright, Ragatha,” Cain said. “It is my fault for not censoring you!” 

He took his place in the lead again, humming as he floated. 

Ragatha leaned over to Jax, who bent down once again. 

“Is he serious?” She murmured into Jax’s flopped ear. “Can he do that?”

Jax shrugged. “We don’t know. So far, he hasn’t done anything. We’re just careful not reminding him. Don’t curse in front of him again, got it ? I like saying dick.” 

“Hm,” she said, but took note to do so. 

Cain eventually let them be on their way, having shown Ragatha everything. Not that she had paid attention. Not that she had cared. She had been too busy inspecting her hands, how they worked, how they felt, as well as staring at the six-foot tall, purple talking rabbit that had been slouching beside her the entire tour, bored out of his mind, yellow teeth in a permanent scowl. 

“ Finally ,” Jax said when Cain popped out of existence like a bubble. He stretched his arms over his head, then cracked his neck. “Damn, I hate that guy.” 

“Why?”

“Why?” Jax exclaimed. “Look at the bastard. He’s creepy as shit .” 

Ragatha snorted. “I haven’ noticed.”

“Alright, well, you wanna see your room, I take it?”

She nodded and he headed off, not looking to see if she was following. She had to take long steps in order to keep up with his relaxed pace. 

“Here we are,” Jax said, rounding the corner. 

Every hallway so far had blurred into a mess of color and red carpet, but this one was lined with doors. As they walked, Jax was still frowning, eyes drowsy, clearly having passed these doors hundreds of times before. 

“How long have you been here?” Ragatha found the courage to ask. 

For a second, those drowsy, uninterested eyes flashed with something. They glanced at her, a split second of emotion she could not place. His smirk wavered, dropping, and as he straightened and set his eyes forward once again, his chest shook with an inhale. 

“I’m not sure,” he said finally. His tone was that sly, cocky tone from earlier, but his eyes were almost sad . 

It was clear he didn’t want to speak further. She nodded and walked past more and more doors. 

“Why are some of these crossed out?” She asked, passing a door with a picture of a smiling dog covered with a clean red X.  

“Those folks went insane. Passed their breaking point.” he shrugged. “This place does that to people.” 

“So… they’re dead?” The question sounded feeble. 

He shook his head, smiling. “That would be too kind, wouldn’t it? Nah, they lose their bodies and get thrown into a void. As far as we know, that’s where they will be, for eternity.”

“Or until we find a way out,” she said, the steadiness of the words surprising her.

He scoffed. “You really think we haven’t tried? That’s the reason they go insane, Rags. They go insane looking for a way out that simply isn't there.” He shook his head. “No, we’re trapped here. I’m sorry, but it’s better you accept it now.” he shrugged nonchalantly, like he was calmly discussing a fact and not the eternal damnation they were going to suffer. “It’s better you keep your thoughts. You don’t want to become the monster these guys do. Lose yourself more than you already have.” 

“I don’t have my memories, or my body,” she said with a scowl. “What more is there to lose?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jax said, stopping by a door with a smiling picture of her at the center. “There is always more to lose.” 

She stared at the smiling picture of her, silent. Motionless. Taking in the button eye, the flat nose, the red of her hair. This was a picture of her . 

“Are you going to go inside?” He asked. “Or are you gonna keep staring?” 

She ignored him. 

“It’s not like you’re pretty enough to gawk at,” he said. 

“God, you’re a prick, aren’t you?” She swirled on him, seething with a sudden wave of anger. “I am stuck in a videogame, I have lost my body, my life, my fucking face, and I am not in the mood for some Nick Wilde wannabe who went through the same things pretend he’s some cool, calm pro.” With each word, she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You aren’t, Jax, you’re just a scared little bitch .” 

He stared at her with those strange yellow teeth that where his mouth showing in a light, surprised o. After a second, he pushed her hand off him and turned to his door. 

“The reason I’m still alive is because of precisely that, Dollface.” There was that relaxed, enraging tone again. “I don’t give a damn about you or anyone else stupid enough to come here, and I most certainly am not scared. There’s no way out, and I’ve accepted that. I can’t be scared of abstraction, because I won’t get abstracted.” 

He looked back on her for a second. She could briefly see into his room, from this angle.

 He smiled at her. “You, however, should be terrified.” 

She flinched at the violent door slam that followed. 

“God, I hate you!” She screamed. 

“Yeah? Get in line, sweetheart!” His response was muffled through the door. 

She screamed again, the animalistic sound tearing at her throat. 

“God!” She yelled. “God, I’m going to murder you. I’m going to tear you apart!”

He opened the door, grinning smugly. “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” 

Now it was her turn to slam her door. She stared at her room, a doll’s room with plastic windows that led nowhere and a giant plastic brush under a fake sticker mirror. Another scream ripped out of her, entire body arching with the force of the violent sound, fists clenched, eyes burning as if her doll body was trying to cry. 

Outside, Jax stared at her door, listening to the muffled scream of horror and panic that he swore he had gotten used to by now. 

He looked down at his hands with a frown. 

He was shaking.

Chapter Text

She was bleeding. 

She stared at her knuckle in a state of shock, the sting of her skin sharp and unwavering. She set the knife down and brought the small wound to her mouth, sucking at it lightly, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What happened?” He asked behind her.

She muttered a curse and turned to the sink, running water over it as it kept bleeding. “Cut myself.”

He approached from behind, wiping his hands on his apron before taking her hand in his. He looked at the wound gently, careful not to touch it, thumb running over her hand in a familiar soothing motion.  

“I can’t do much,” he said simply. “I’ve got lime on my fingers. It’ll burn.” 

She laughed, light, and drew her hand back. “It’s fine. It's a small cut.”

“Well, yeah, but ouch,” he said, wincing as his eye caught the blood on her sleeve. 

She rolled her eyes and let out a small chuckle. “Just keep chopping, yeah?” 

He nodded and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” 

She flicked water at him with a smile. 

- - -

Dinner consisted of a grilled chicken and a side of lemon-garlic roasted potatoes. Desert had consisted of four oreo ice cream sandwiches and some strawberries with sugar.  

They now sat and conversed comfortably. He had started eating his third ice cream sandwich, albeit slower than the first two. 

“The entire chicken wasn’t enough?” She asked with a light grin. 

He rolled his eyes and took a massive bite as if with spite. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen, then rolled his eyes and took another big bite. 

“Oooh, who’s that?” She mused, leaning forward. 

“Boss,” he replied, frowning slightly. “Says she wants me to check something out. A lead.”

“How come she doesn’t tell me that?”

He shrugged. “It’s probably because I’m so goddamn hot.” 

“The woman is forty-five,” she responded. “And has like, four kids. Your age.” 

Again, he shrugged. “Still hot.” 

She rolled her eyes and opened her own ice cream sandwich. “So, is it out of state?”

“Is what out of state?” 

“The lead.” 

He nodded. “Virginia.” 

“Virginia?” She stared at him as he nodded somberly. “Nobody lives in Virginia. What the hell happened in Virginia?” 

“I know,” he groaned, head in his hands. “She said she’ll send me the info.”

Another buzz came from his phone. He lifted his head, picked it up, and took another bite of his sandwich as he scanned the message. 

She waited. 

He hummed a small hm. “Kid’s cousin sent in a tip. Apparently he liked staying in Richmond. Never told anyone except the cousin’s aunt, who would send the kid,” he inhaled, squinting as if half asleep. “She would send the kid girls.” 

She stared at him. 

“Girls?”

“Prostitutes,” he said, eyes widening as he kept reading. His mouth quirked up into an amused smile. “Male and female, which is why the aunt hadn’t come forward with it.” 

She found herself laughing. “Does the dad know?”

He shook his head. “Sewman says this stays between me and her.” He looked up at her and shot her a smile. “And you, I guess.” 

She grinned. “Well, alright. And I can’t come along?”

He leaned back and kept chewing. After a while, he swallowed and said, “I dunno. Boss might have something for you here, and she’s already bought me the plane ticket.” 

She nodded. “She does want me looking into the schematics. The dad’s alibi’s been wavering lately. He’s cozy with one of the main witnesses.” 

He shrugged. “I’ll be gone a week at most. I just need to ask a few questions. Maybe find the girls and guys that visited him, see if they saw him after he was reported missing. If I find a lead, I’ll just hand it over to Sweman.”

She nodded again. “It’s not like I’ll miss you or anything.” 

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “No? oh, I'm hurt!” 

“Maybe these goddamn cookies will last longer with you gone,” she said, nodding as if it was the simplest thing she had ever said. “I’ll only need to buy two boxes a week.” 

He pointed at her as if in threat. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare. You buy those three boxes or I don’t come back.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she said, saluting at him. 

He laughed and threw his wrapper in her direction. “I won’t miss this.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” 

“Nah, you’re a real pain. Maybe I can finally move divisions. Get an internship with the FBI.” 

She laughed. “Doesn’t the FBI fight, though? You’re too skinny for that.” 

He flexed what little muscle he had. “I can type and investigate well, thank you very much. Plus, I think they just do desk stuff. The CIA’s the one murdering politicians.”

“Oh, how exciting,” She was wide eyed, hands in her palms, staring up at him in admiration. “You going to wrestle some angry computers, then? Maybe shoot some notebooks?”

He scowled at her. “And if I do?” 

“Send me a video, maybe I can finally get you the meds you need.” 

He shot her the finger and took a swing of his glass. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, sweetheart. You know you’ll miss me, and my office next door.” 

“Oh, you can be certain I will not.” 

He grinned at her. “Just you watch.”  

- - -

Ragatha stared at the ceiling of her room, unmoving. Unblinking. She had found that hurt, and it tired her eyes, which was the closest thing to sleepiness she had felt in the long, infinite time she had been trapped here. By now the room was familiar, though the grooves of her bed, carved into plastic to resemble sheets, were newly muffled by the robe she had stolen from Kinger. She sunk into the thick fabric, pretending she was asleep. 

She sighed as the knock came again, stirring and laying on her side. “What do you want?” 

“I’ve broken Gangle’s mask again,” Jax said. 

“Oh, godamnit,” she muttered under her breath, and forced herself out of the bed. 

She swung the door open and was met with the familiar sight of Gangle sobbing over her broken comedy mask, Jax standing beside her with an indifference she now knew how to read.  

He had his arms crossed at his chest, one of his hands tapping his arm as a way of fidgeting. She motioned for Gangle to enter her room with a jab of her finger and took a step towards Jax, who leaned in so his grin was inches away from her fuming face. 

“You really do need to grow up, you know.”

He raised his hands up as if in surrender. “I’d say I’m sorry, dollface, but I ain’t. The kid’s mask is fragile. Maybe we should just make her a metal one.” 

“With what?” She asked, taking a step back. “Where will we get the metal, Jax?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure we can talk to Caine-” 

“No, Jax. Just-” She inhaled and took another step back, so she was in her room. “Just go. You’ve done enough.” 

He stared at her. 

He shook his head. 

“No?” She said, shoulders shaking with an angry laugh. “No, Jax?”

“No, Rags. No. I’m gonna come inside and help Gangle with her goddamn mask.”

She stared at him. After a second, she scoffed and stepped aside. 

“Be my guest.” 

Jax did, then, huffing a breath and looking round at the modifications she had made since they had raided Kinger’s room. He had left the door open, a usually rookie mistake they all made at one point or the other. Jax had taken the credit for inventing the trend, and for once he actually deserved it. He was the only person asshole enough to raid a newly-traumatized person and steal all things with value from their one sanctuary. However, Ragatha couldn’t deny it was useful and fun. The raids felt like summer camp, like they were doing a prank, like the current group of strangers had bonded into something resembling friends. It caused laughter, adrenaline without real threat. She loved it. 

Jax hummed a tune as he approached Gangle, who looked up at him through her sobs. 

“Shh, Gangle,” he said, words soft, tone disinterested. “I am sorry, you know.” 

Gangle looked away. 

“What is it?” He asked, that familiar, annoyed sharpness seeping in despite his best intentions. 

“You’re mean, Jax.” 

He nodded. “I am.”

Gangle sniffed. “You’re going to help me?” 

He hummed and nodded. He took her hands in his, rubbing his gloves over her ribbon knuckles in a soothing, repetitive motion. 

“Hey, Rags, where’s the marker?” He asked.

Ragatha didn’t move. She was staring at him, something running around in her mind, too fast for her to catch. Over and over, the thought spun in her brain, just out of her reach, like all the frustrating details about herself she knew she should remember. 

“Hey,” Jax snapped, waving at her. 

“Oh-”she said, blinking. “Um, bottom drawer.” 

He nodded and opened her doll vanity mirror. He took out the marker, the only marker in the whole circus that Cain wasn’t providing, and picked up Gangle’s new mask. They had a stack of them in Ragatha’ room after this had become routine and Caine had gotten tired of having his dates interrupted. 

Jax drew on it slowly, mouth scrunched up in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, eyes squinted. Gangle and Ragatha watched as he continued drawing. Ragatha braced herself for the worst, perhaps a drawing of Jax giving the middle finger, or an obscenely detailed dick drawing. 

When he was done, he swirled it around and showed it to Gangle, clearly extremely pleased. 

“Here you go,” he beamed. “My apology.” 

“It’s…” Gangle took it and looked down at it, in a state of shock. “Thank you, Jax.”

“Will it help you?” He asked. 

Gangle nodded, slipping it on. “Oh, certainly.”

“Leme see,” Ragatha said. 

Gangle turned and faced her, and Rahatha smiled. She raised an eyebrow at Jax.

“Did you actually just do something nice, Jax?” Her grin was wide. “Do you need meds?” 

He laughed. “I’m not Homelander, Rags. I can be a terrorist without being a complete dick.” He shrugged. “Besides, I think this is going to be interesting.”

Gangle’s new face was etched into a frozen expression of maniacal laughter, mouth drawn into a wide, wide smile. 

“I want to burn something,” she said. 

“Well about time!” Jax said, patting her on the ribbon that was her shoulder. “Cmon, I’ll show you how to make a flamethrower.” 

“Yeah!” Gangle yelled, pumped. 

Jax looked back at Ragatha when he neared her door. He winked. 

Ragatha rolled her eyes and only moved when they had gone and she could shut the door behind them. She leaned her forehead against the door, catching her breath. 

After something close to seven months, after an endless slur of time with her mind blank and her memory gone, something had materialized. She had managed to grasp it, managed to see a glimpse of it like a snippet of a dream returning in the middle of the day. And yet she could not read it. It was like she had found her diary in another language; illegible, blurry, but there. 

Her knuckle started to sting.  

What the hell? 

Chapter Text

Ragatha was standing around the mirror, Jax, Gangle, and Kinger beside her. 

“F%#-ck,” she tried. 

“Sh%#t,” Gangle said. 

“M#%$@*&^%R,” Jax cursed.  

“Oh my god,” Kinger said. The group paused at that. 

“Oh my god,” Ragatha repeated. 

“God,” Gangle said. “Hell?” Ragatha said.

“Damn,” Jax said. After a second, he squinted. Hesitantly, he said, “Damn it ? Darn. D$#ck. F#%cks sake, I can’t say S#%t anymore.” 

“P%$#a,” Gangle said. “Hijo de tu P&^%$a M#$%e.” 

“What’s that, Spanish?” Ragatha asked. 

Gangle nodded. “I watch a lot of dubs in spanish. They sound better.” 

“M%$#@es,” Jax tried. “Bullsh$%^t.” 

“Gosh darn it,” Kinger said. He looked pleased when it wasn’t censored. 

“@%%?” Jax tried. ““@%%hole.” He groaned into his hands, frustrated. “I can’t F%$#ng speak.” 

“Crikey!” Kinger tried, again looking incredibly happy when he realized he had found another acceptable word. 

“Bollocks,” Jax tried. He snorted. “Yeah, I ain’t saying that.” 

“Tw#t,” Ragatha tried. “C$#@t.” 

“Bastard?” Gangle said meekly. 

Jax turned to the mirror. “Bastard.” 

“Bastard.” Ragatha shrugged. “That isn’t so bad.” 

“F$%#@ng bastards,” Jax said. “ F$%#@ng bastards. It was one thing to take my body, but my swears? F$@ck them.”

“Balls,” Kinger said. 

Jax laughed at that, hard. “Oh my god, we get like three curse words and one of them is balls ?!”

“P3#!s,” Ragatha tried. “B*^bs. Butt.” She rolled her eyes. 

The door at the end of the hallway opened and they all turned to glower at Zooble, the nearest addition to the circus, having appeared closely following Berkley’s abstraction. The group’s anger came from the simple fact that in their first five minutes here, Zooble had managed to finally give Caine the initiative to work on censoring their curse words. The twenty-five minutes of begging, groveling, and screaming that had followed had done nothing. Nobody could curse anymore. Yet, Zooble seemed unaffected. They stared back at the group, eyes uninterested, posture slouched. 

“Hey there,” Ragatha said, tone warm. 

By Zooble’s body language, Ragtha could tell the initial fear had worn off. This meant that Zooble now had no reason to not apologi-

Zooble scoffed and rolled their eyes. 

“God, is that what I’m like?” Jax said, recoiling back with a disgusted expression on his face. “I’d understand if you all want to kick me in the balls.” 

“You don’t have balls anymore,” Ragatha pointed out. 

Jax frowned. “Don’t remind me.” 

“You fat bastards want to say something to me?” Zooble yelled from across the hallway. 

“Actually, yeah, Zooble!” Jax yelled back, hands cupped around his mouth. “F$#%ck you and your mom!” 

“I didn’t do anything!” They yelled back. “Blame Caine for having those stupid @$$ rules!”

“I told you, you f$#%ng lego pile!” Jax continued to yell. “I told you, don’t curse, stop cursing, Caine will get mad, stop F$%#ng cursing dude, stop- and you would not listen !” 

“I don’t have a F$%@#ng body, you radioactive easter bunny! I don’t remember my goddamn name!”

“Yeah? Well join the f$%#ng club, you d$%ck,” Jax scrowled. “Now I can’t even call you the names you deserve. Cursing was the one joy left in this game!” 

Zooble groaned and said, “Go jerk off, then, you whiny little B%$#ch.” 

“Oh! OH!” Jax started advancing, Ragatha grabbed his arms as he started waving his fists like he wanted to fight. “I DON’T HAVE ANY GODDAMN BALLS, YOU F%$#NG SH$%T!” 

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM!” Zooble yelled back at him, sending him something they supposed was a middle finger. The group couldn’t tell. Zooble’s finger was censored, too. At that, Zooble screamed in frustration, but unlike Ragatha’s screams,  a strong sense of rage overpowered their fear. “Goddamnit! Goddamn it!” 

“Zooble-” Gangle started. 

“You can all go to hell!” Zooble yelled, and slammed their door. 

The hallway was left in stunned, angry silence. Gangle and Kinger glanced at Jax and Ragatha. Ragatha didn’t see them leave, but heard their doors softly closing. Slowly, as Jax relaxed slightly, dropping his hands to his sides in a dumbfounded defeat, her grip around him loosened until she had completely let him go. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in quick, short breaths. Now he really did remind Ragatha of a rabbit, eyes quick and darting, breaths desperate and scared. 

“Are you alright?” Ragatha asked.

Jax said nothing, eyes still on Zooble’s door. 

“Jax?” Her hand was on his arm and he jerked away, violently. 

After a second of staring at her, breaths still short, he managed, “They’re twenty two.”

Ragatha was silent. 

“Caine told me,” Jax said, looking away, trying to relax his breathing, “Zooble’s twenty two.”

“And?” Ragatha asked. The word was soft, tentative, like he was nothing but a wild animal that could startle, that could dart off in an instant of fear and leave her there in the hallway with more questions than answers. 

“And I’m twenty two, Ragatha. Caine told me. He told me I’m her age, I don’t think he realized,” he sucked in a deep breath, eyes closing, “I don’t think he realized I remember.” 

She stared at him. “You remember.”

He nodded, eyes still closed. “I remember that . I was twenty when I got stuck here. I’ve been here two years.”

She stared at him. “Two years?”

He opened his eyes and turned to her. “And that means you’ve been here close to one.” 

“Holy sh!t,” she breathed. “Holy sh!t.”

He was silent for a long, long time. Staring at her. Thinking if he should say something more. Ragatha knew he would turn away, like all the other times. But he didn’t. He stayed there, feet planted, looking at her with a very strange look in his eyes. 

“I like chocolate cake,” he said finally. “That’s what I had for my twentieth birthday. Thick chocolate cake. I think my birthday was near thanksgiving. My whole family was there.” 

Ragatha’s brain was blank, a numbing, stunned sadness clouding it.

“I had put my dog down a day before. I remember looking down to give her scraps, expecting her to be there with her eyes wide and fake-starving. She wasn’t there.” He smiled grimly. “I was wearing beige dress pants and brown dress shoes. Mom chose them for me. As an act of rebellion, I had chosen to wear knee-high shark socks underneath.”

There was a soft smile, then. Something Ragatha had never seen was shining in his eyes. Nostalgia, the brightness that came with a fond memory. 

Wistfulness.

It softened him. 

“Got ‘em for shark week at the aquarium because I guessed twenty out of twenty five species,” he continued. “And I remember that, too. All the dumb shark facts I knew. The top hat on the great white somewhere on the socks you’d have to look for like a where's Waldo page.” 

Ragatha laughed. She could imagine it, perfectly, though she still found it strange that this purple rabbit had once had a human face, a human body, white in his eyes. 

Jax ran a hand through his head, like he was combing hair. “I also had dirty-blonde hair, I think. The whole family had it, except for one of the babies, who was a full ginger.” He laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? I remember my little baby cousin’s face, and not mine. I remember teasing him for looking like Ed Sheeran. I remember a random singer’s name, what socks I had on for my twentieth birthday, but not my f#$&!ng  name.” 

His smile had faded, the rage and anger and sharpness back in his voice. Ragatha was silent as he glanced at her, expecting her to say something. 

After a moment, Jax scoffed. “I don’t know why I even told you this. Dunno why I bother.” 

“Well-I,” the protest faded from her voice. “That was nice, Jax.”

He shrugged. “But I ain’t.”

“You’re just scared, is all.” Her smile was soft. “We all are.”

Jax smiled that infuriating smirk at her. “You know I don’t do friends, doll.” 

“Why is that?” She asked. He had given her an answer once before, but she wanted to hear it again, wanted a reason to accept the fact that Jax was nothing but a selfish prick. 

“I’ve seen what happens when you soften up,” he replied, leaning on the wall beside Gangle’s door as if casual. Only he knew his shoulders were tense. “None of you are worth that.” 

She shook her head, frowning, eyebrows furrowed. Still she searched him for something that she found hard to believe still existed inside him. 

After a moment, she said, “This is no way to survive.” 

Jax’s smile drew into a scowl. “I don’t intend to just survive. I intend to win.”

“Win what?” Something like a bitter laugh shook her shoulders. “There is nothing to win here.” She turned to go inside her own room. “The second you put that headset on, you lost.” 

Chapter Text

Pomni had stopped shaking. 

The silent crying would come back, here and there. Sudden gasps for air, body shuddering with violent, short sobs. Yet it was not as much as when she had first gotten here. Seeing someone abstract had quieted her down. 

Ragatha had felt helpless, watching Pomni deal with her first digital dinner, breaking down completely. She reminded Ragatha of herself, of the first few liquid hours here. Of the times where nobody had cared and nobody had listened to her, when nobody had supported her or taught her the rules, instead leaving her to fend for herself in a world that had stolen everything from her.  

She had decided, once the place was somewhat familiar, that the new victims would not go through the same thing. With Gangle, she had become friends, helping her fend of Jax and his remarks, spending hours at a time unknotting her body. With Zooble, once their rage had faded away, Ragatha had taught them about Caine’s games, allowing Zooble to skip the first few and spend time by themselves, collecting themselves mentally and physically. 

But with Pomni, she had been on the floor of a hallway, glitching, blind with pain. She had left Pomni alone to run from the horrifying sight that now was Kaufmo. She had let Pomni see herself in a mirror with no one to support her, see the pit of abstractions with nothing other than pure horror. 

She was determined to help her now, at least. Her hands had stopped shaking, too. She could hold the brush steadily, so now Pomni sat in front of her, fingers running through Ragatha’s thick rug as Ragatha brushed her black, silky hair. 

“I wish I still had normal hair,” Ragatha said after a moment. Her tone was as gentle as her hands. 

Pomni didn’t smile. “I’m the most human one here, aren’t I?”

Ragata nodded, tilting Pomni’s hat so she could reach more of her hair. So far, they had not figured out how to remove it completely. “Yeah, even Kaufmo looked weird. His whole head was misshapen.” The name was like a stone being dropped between them, rippling through their bodies with a strange sense of somber grief. She forced herself to smirk, to change the subject. “Jax is probably awfully jealous about the fact that you can open your mouth.” 

At this, Pomni laughed, the sound timid. After a second, she said, “What’s his deal, anyways?”

“Who, Jax’s?” When Pomni nodded, Ragatha shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s always been like that, I guess. At least, since I got here.”

“But why is he like that?” Pomni asked.

Ragatha focused on Pomni’s hair. After a second, she said, “Jax has never told me. I’ve tried to ask Kinger, but his sane episodes only get shorter and shorter. I guess it’s just… the time he’s been here. Hopeless searching does great deals to the human mind.” 

Pomni was silent. 

Ragatha kept brushing, even though she knew full well there were no knots, no imperfections, no frizz. This was digital hair, designed to be smooth and in place. There was no need for the stupid hairbrush, and for some reason that made her feel the need to keep brushing. After a particularly hard yank, Pomni winced, and Ragatha sighed and got up, walking to the dresser. 

“Do you remember anything?” She asked Pomni, back turned. 

Pomni shook her head. “I don’t know. I remembered the headset when I first got here, but now… it’s gone. Like I woke up from a dream and now it’s faded from my memory.” She was staring at her hands. “Like my old life was nothing but a dream.”

Ragatha caught the old in “old life”, a thick, strange guilt settling over her shoulders. 

She forced herself to move, to nod, to open her drawer and put the brush inside.

“Don’t worry, you’ll start remembering eventually,” the laugh that shook her shoulders fell short, even to her ears. “Everyone remembers something stupid from before this. Gangle lived somewhere with snow. Jax’s birthday is on Thanksgiving. Kinger had a sheep dog called Rascal, and he remembers Rascal jumping out of his moving truck.”

“I think I remember getting ready for a party,” Pomni said quickly. “One of those work parties nobody liked to attend. An easter one. I remember putting on makeup, but I can’t quite see my face. It’s like it’s blurred out.” 

Ragatha looked at herself in the mirror in front of her. At the button that was her eye, at the mouth with no opening, at the red string that had replaced her hair. 

“Nobody remembers that, Pomni. I’m real sorry.” 

Pomni nodded. “You didn’t put me here.” 

Ragatha shook her head no, but Pomni’s words brought up a strangely familiar question. 

Who did? 

“So, I can’t sleep?” Pomni’s question was a quiet one, but it drew Ragatha’s attention back to her.

Ragatha pursed her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, but no. You can’t. You can get close. You know what I do?”

Pomni waited. 

“I keep my eyes wide, wide open. It hurts to keep them open for some reason. When you stop blinking, your eyes get tired. It’s the most human feeling you’ll get here.”

Pomni looked down at herself, one of her hands hesitantly grabbing the fabric of her costume. “And I can’t take this off, can I?” 

Ragatha shook her head. “Nope. It’s a part of you, now. It’s pretty much sealed on to you. It is you.” 

Pomni nodded. Another pause, and then a shake took over her shoulders. She pressed her hands to her eyes as if they stung. 

“God, what am I going to do?” She asked to no one. “What the f$#ck am I going to do?” 

Ragatha moved to kneel in front of her. After a second, Pomni sniffed, and Ragatha pulled her into her arms. Pomni leaned into the touch, head resting on her shoulders, hands limp at her sides. She was crying again, but this was tearless and devoid of panic.

“I can’t do this,” She managed through a sob. “I can’t- God, I need to get out of here.” 

Ragatha pulled back. “Pomni, you can’t. I’m sorry.”

Pomni shook her head, backing away, feet shaking as she stood and the terror gripped her. “No, I saw an exit, Ragatha. I went in it. It leads to the void, but there was a headset on a desk.  I-” She clutched at her face, now, groaning in frustration. “I’m so stupid! I’m such an idiot!”

Ragatha stared at her. “A headset?”

Pomni was stumbling backwards, clutching her head. “God, I need air. God, I need to get out of here.” 

“Pomni-” Pomni was gone. Ragatha stared at the empty doorway. 

“Good night!” She called. It was a feeble attempt at comfort. 

Even through her panic, Pomni managed to respond with a yelled, “Good night to you too!” 

After a moment, Ragatha sighed and sat down. It felt like every bone in her body was tired, like she had forced herself to stay awake for too long. The feeling wasn’t new, but it was always strange if she thought about it too much, seeing she had no muscle or bone. 

She lay down on the carpet, hands on her stomach. Her eyes were drawn to the ceiling of her room. It reminded her of her doll castles, or maybe the inside of a mansion. There were flower patterns sticking out of the white stone, which she counted to get her eyes tired quicker. She started doing so, trying to simultaneously calm her mind. She kept it blank. By now she had much practice in doing so. 

Her eyes grew tired, starting to droop, not sting like they usually did. She lay still but restarted the count. A thought surged in her head, of Kinger’s dog. She pushed it away and kept counting. 

Ninteen, twenty. Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four. Twenty five. 

Twenty six. 

twenty … seven. 

… 

Twenty three?

Twenty… four…

- - - 

“Twenty five goddamn nutcases is what they are,” she seethed, tearing one of the fliers down from the board. “They’re just after the goddamn money. We warned him, we told him not to do it-” 

“The man’s missing his son,” he said it like it was obvious, like her anger bored him. “Give him a break.” 

Their main witness had, against their stressed advice, put up fliers promising a reward for any information regarding the disappearance or whereabouts of his son. Now it was their job to find who was telling the truth- but they had been at this for hours and had only just gotten to the people claiming to have seen his car.  

She leaned on her desk, inhaling deeply as she clutched the metal sides of it with her fingers. The pounding in her ears faded away as she calmed. 

“It’s just so stupid,” she said, looking at the fliers, at her useless notes beside each one. “We can’t know which of these is true, now.” 

“We’ve got CCTV, don’t we?” 

She glanced behind him. He was looking up at her, waiting expectantly. After a second, she nodded. 

He put up his hands as if in exasperation. “So? What are you worried about? We just cross out a few names and we’ve got it.” He started writing on a post-it note.  “What’re the time stamps again? 3:30 and 6:20?” 

She shook her head. “The first recording starts at 3:00 and ends at 3:44.”

After a second, he nodded again, to himself, and got up. He walked around the desk and placed the post-it at the center of the whiteboard, replacing the flier she had just torn down. 

Find the dickheads, it read. She found herself smiling. 

He grabbed a laser pointer from his own desk and held it with his teeth as he started drawing a large map. This was a weird habit of his, a need to bite something as if to keep his teeth from grinding with concentration. 

He stepped back when he was done, clearly pleased, and used the laser pointer to circle a large area along the expanse of the highway at the center of his drawing. 

“This one says he passed her on the 76 near Pittsburg at 4:20, but our guy left the gas station at 3:44. That would leave him here,” he took the marker out of his teeth and put a dot on the highway. “Not near Pittsburg. That means she’s a lying dick, and we can tear that flier down and kick it in the trash. Can you check the highway logistics?” 

She nodded and opened her computer, putting it on her lap. He would call out coordinates and time stamps, and she would point at them with the laser pointer. If they didn’t match, he would mark a big red X over the flier and let it fall to the floor. By the end, the light was completely gone outside and they had only five possible witnesses. 

She had been typing when he had left the room, whistling something that he had been repeating since the morning radio. She was surprised to see him return with two small pumpkin pies in his hands. 

“Aren’t those from David’s retirement party?” She asked, closing her computer and setting it aside. 

He shrugged. “Old bastard couldn’t touch em’. He’s got diabetes or something else old people get. Do you want it or not?” 

She rolled her eyes and made room for him on her desk. He sat down next to her, his feet firmly touching the ground. Her toes only brushed it. 

He handed her a pie and she accepted, feigning reluctancy, smile growing slightly. The pie was terribly small, topped with a whipped cream she knew would be too sweet. 

“It’s not scalding hot,” he said at her hesitancy, already having bitten into half of it. 

She couldn’t have not noticed the obvious coolness of the wrapper, and rolled her eyes as she peeled it back and bit into the pie. The thick crust crumbled slightly under her teeth. It was smooth and delicious, a surprising amount of flavor for a small treat she knew full well came from Costco. She laughed to herself at that thought, and he shot her a look of amusement. 

When they were done, he took her wrapper and threw it in the small trash can beside him. There was a comfortable silence. 

He leaned back and blew out a breath.  

“See?” He grinned sideways at her. “Was that so hard?”

She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. This is just getting to me, is all. With the Richmond police- they were real jerks to me on the phone. They’re all caught up with that missing blueberry couple, so our case isn’t their problem.” 

He nodded. After a second, he said, “Did you find anything on the dad yet?” 

She shook her head. “He’s steadfastly refused to speak to anyone.” 

“Unless he’s talking about how desperate he is to find him, of course.” He rolled his eyes as he said it, taking a final bite of his pie. His phone buzzed and he picked it up as he continued. “We could probably get his ex-wife over. I know she hasn’t been anything but hysterical, but she could know something.” 

he had trailed off slightly, a frown sinking into his features. 

She noticed his face of disappointment. “Who is it?” 

“It’s the Boss. She says the flight’s canceled completely now. I’m not going to Richmond.” 

“So I’m gonna have to buy that ice cream?” She asked, lips quirking up into a smile. 

He rolled his eyes, but his own mouth teased a smile. “I can buy my own, thanks.”

“You’ll just forget them in your car,” she replied, checking her own phone. She felt her grin fade. The investigator from Richmond had not called her back. She sighed and rubbed at her eyes again. They stung. 

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll go over there and annoy the hell out of him if he hasn’t responded by the time I get there.” He offered her a small smile, and she found she could return it. 

“Thanks, 

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Ragatha woke up with her brain pounding and the taste of pumpkin pie on her tongue.

She blinked up at the ceiling, eyes re-adjusting to the warm light. 

Richmond. 

She had just dreamed, for the first time in forever, and all she could remember was Richmond.

Chapter Text

She was sleeping on his desk. 

Her snore was light and more akin to the light purring of a dog, a large difference from his dad’s deep rumble. She wasn’t drooling, her mouth was on her arm, a makeshift pillow.  She was wearing a white blouse, the fabric thin and rolled up to above the elbows. She shivered, then, a movement she had meant to suppress. 

After a second, he took off his jacket. He stared at it for a second and rolled his eyes before putting it over her shoulders, draping it lightly, tugging at the sleeve so that it covered her completely. 

She mumbled something, stirring. The weight of it was a comfort but her brain slurred the question of where it had come from. 

“Shh, go to sleep,” he murmured, stepping to the side, thinking of brushing his hands through her hair but choosing not to. 

“Thank you,” she said through a groan, and her head collapsed back into her arm. 

He pulled his seat up next to her and opened his computer. He stared at his emails, nearly empty despite the mountains of information he had asked for. She was dealing with the same thing, he remembered. No wonder she was so tired. They where barley interns, given a case that was little interest to anyone but the father of the kid. So, along with the case, they were made into a species of clowns, of laughing stock to point a finger to when things got annoying, to be brushed aside and swatted away like they were flies. 

It was bad enough that the case was difficult. Unsolvable, it had been stamped. The witnesses where a mess, the funding too low, the motive too debatable. The kid had left because he had chose to, and the father could simply not accept it. So now they where tasked with finding a motive, getting the kid on a missing persons list, and making the dad happy before Christmas. 

Some sick present, she had said when they had read the deadline, and he had laughed. 

He sighed and opened the official case files, words he had memorized already but always went back to. He rubbed at his temple, it had started to thrum against his eye with the beating of his heart. He pulled up the first interview with the dad.

“How did you first notice he was gone?” The investigator was asking. “You and him were not close.”

The dad shook his head. “Millie told me he was missing. She was all hysterical, ‘oh, the restaurant’s falling apart.’ He had just fired the head chef and missed the interviews he had scheduled for that weekend, so on monday’s opening day nobody knew what to do.” At that, a laugh. “You should’ve seen the shitshow. We were never meant for any other business, I always told him that.” 

His fingers tapped his desk lightly, the feeling of wood under his skin oddly comforting and familiar. The low, hollow thrumming echoed in his ears, heart struggling to match the relaxed pace. His heel began tapping the floor. Still he hummed the same song from the morning radio, on a loop since 8 am. The words where driving him insane, the chorus had grown repetitive and at this point he was getting sick of it. 

An impatience was on him, settling around his throat as he heard the same words for the hundredth time, as if they hadn’t been engraved into his brain a week ago. He was missing something. They all were. Why was their guy visiting up north so much? It was not just the prostitutes, those had come after, so what was it? He looked over at her- 

- - - 

Jax woke up with a start, breath shallow and sharp and desperate as he inhaled. His heart was pounding hard against his chest, his heaving gasps for air so intense they hurt his chest. 

After a few minutes his heart had gone back to normal and his breathing came in more relaxed shudders. Still his body buzzed with the adrenaline that came from dreaming. From doing something forbidden and supposedly coded out of him. 

It was a gift he had kept to himself, after realizing it was something you could do. Sleep. Escape . 

He told himself that as all it was. An escape. But he didn’t believe it, not really. Not when the dream always ended with the same question.  

What are we missing? 

He stared at his ceiling. At the large drawing of the girl on his desk, sleeping, face covered. Blurred. When he woke, he could never remember it, and that position was how he had compromised with himself. 

He sighed and fixed his eyes on the drawing, counting backwards from one hundred. His eyes fell heavy but the adrenaline was not letting them shut completely. He rubbed his hands on the carpet, thrumming at a rhythm, humming a song with lyrics long forgotten. 

His eyes grew heavy again, he forced himself to look at the drawing of the girl. Flier. Pie. Jacket. Flier. Pie. Jacket. Flier… pie. Jacket. 

Flier. 

Pie. 

..

Jacket. 

Fl…

Pie… 

His brain was blank except for the usual dream. The one with the girl and the jacket and the computer. But the thought of a highway and blueberries and sky popped into his brain, and something in him grasped it and refused to let go.

He could feel the gritting of his teeth, the ache of his jaw, the slight sting of cool air on his knuckles. 

This was nothing but something he should forget, nothing but something he shouldn’t see. 

It was something new, so it was everything, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. 

- - - 

He was driving on a freeway, empty except for him and the occasional roadkill. He looked to his left and grinned. The sun was rising, steady and warm. The light it cast through the thick rain clouds streamed through like god calling him. The sunlight illuminated the endless fields of crop, surrounding him like a sea. Strawberries, blueberries, some corn, the seasonal fruits making the air smell of raw dirt and tang sweetness. He could no longer smell it, the windows were rolled up because of the patches of rain, but he could remember it and smile. 

The highway was calm, flat, and empty. Here and there he would pass a farmhouse, a town, but Pitsburg had been left behind an hour ago and the rain had left the road to those with need, not want. He enjoyed it this way. It made for a lonely trip, yes, but it was calm and he did not have to worry about anyone but himself. 

He looked back at the fields, hand relaxing on the wheel. There were no cars, no cows. He could spare a glance at the beauty of man-made nature in front of him, at least for a while- 

There was a large thump, the crack of metal bending under weight, and his car swerved. He gripped the wheel and slammed on the brakes but it did nothing, the road wet and slick and smooth. His jaw ached with the force of the sudden movement, his entire body strained for an impact that could come in an instant. 

A black mass of fur flew out from under the car as it spun in a tight circle, still on the road by nothing but a thread and a miracle. A raccoon. Stuck under the wheel, ripped up into the very machine, torn and murdered. 

The car skidded to a halt and he breathed heavily, gasps of air being heaved through his mouth as his brain pounded. His hands were shaking with adrenaline as he reached to open his window. It opened fast but not fast enough, he slammed the door open and gulped in the fresh storm air like it was water. 

The sounds and smells of the fields streamed in with the wind. 

The raccoon chittered. 

It was still alive.

Chapter Text

Ragatha’s door opened late, only after Gangle had knocked on her door to rouse her. Gangle had gotten used to the new routine faster than anyone  else, and she had taken it upon herself to check on everyone come morning. She started to yawn, stretching her hands above her head, a habit she had kept from her physical body. 

“Well, good mooooorning,” Jax said, hands crossed behind him, wide grin unflinching. 

Ragatha froze mid-yawn. She rubbed at her eyes and squinted at him, a suspicious glare clouding her face. He never wished her good morning, not unless he had done something wrong or wanted something for her. Yet, nothing was on fire, and Gangle was not crying beside him. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked finally. 

“What?” The word was stretched out and exaggerated. “A guy can’t wish a pretty girl good morning anymore? What’s happened to your chivalry, dollface? This place eat it up like the rest of you?” 

She rolled her eyes but did not walk away. It was best to see what this was about. “You are oddly chipper this morning. What, have a good dream?”

Only he noticed the fur standing at the back of his neck as every pair of Caine’s eyes suddenly swerved on them. The feeling was like having his nerves die at once, freezing and stiffening and screaming at him to run. Ragatha seemed oblivious. They all did, when Caine did that. Only Jax, with his purple fur, seemed to feel when Caine was watching. He felt the center of his face, where his nose would be, start to twitch, as if he really was a frightened rabbit. He pushed the feeling away. 

“Oh, I wish, rags, I really do, but you know as well as I… we can’t dream here.” Miraculously, his smile was still there. Unwavering. Cartoony. Creepy and unnerving as f$3ck.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Jax.” The words sounded tentative, like she had stuck out her hand to offer a handshake, like she was hopeful this wasn’t just an act. She walked past him, slowly, suspiciously. He nodded at her as she passed. 

Like a habit, he stuck out his leg and she fell, hard, on her face. 

He hadn’t felt himself do it, hadn’t truly realized what he had done until she was on the floor. No sense of amusement washed over him, only a steady trickle of regret. She pushed herself up with a small huff, silence cold and stiff. Her eyes refused to meet his as she straightened. As she walked away, brushing at her knees, he felt his smile fade slowly. God, why was he such a prick?

God, why’s he such a prick? The words were running over and over through Ragatha’s head as she stormed off. The disappointment that had washed over her had been strangely heavy, and it now burdened her shoulders as she walked, listening to his muffled saunter behind her. 

They reached the table and she made sure to find a chair where there was no empty chair next to her. Gangle waved at her, Pomni meekly did as well. She grinned at them both and sat, out of the corner of her eye watching as Jax took his place at the far, opposite end of the table. Good riddance. 

She looked down at the food in front of her. A hexagonal, thick stack of pancakes topped with solid-yellow butter and sided with bright red bacon. 

Breakfast food. 

Because it was morning. 

Because when Gangle had arrived, time had slowly made more sense. Zooble had come and time had slid into days, though hours were a hazy loop still. And now that Pomni was here the day was split into a tangible twenty-four hours. 

Pomni was the only one out of all of them who could mark down her days and have the final number be accurate. Pomni lasted seventy five, sixty eight, two thousand human days. Pomni lasted five weeks or two months or eleven turns around the sun.

Ragatha had lasted a faucet of time, an exile, a blurr. Liquid time and liquid hours and two liquid years, which could be perceived as five or eight or sixteen years if she thought too hard about it. 

Pomni poked at the pancakes with her fork, a tired, disinterested faraway gaze set in her glassy eyes. Her pancakes were rounder, thicker, a center of white around them as if they were pastry. Ragatha patted her on the arm and shot her a smile. Pomni weakly returned it, but her eyes quickly fell back to the food. 

“How did you sleep?” Ragatha asked softly. 

Pomni shook her head. 

“Oh, leave the new girl alone, Ragatha. She’ll get there eventually.” The grin in Jax’s voice no longer brought a rise out of her, but Pomni’s reaction pricked at her brain. 

“I would like Pomni to enjoy her second day here as much as possible,” Ragatha replied, tone pleasant and smooth. 

“And that’s why I’m here!” The theme song for the circus erupted in their eardrums as Caine popped into existence, delighted as always. 

Pomni flinched so hard she fell out of her chair. The sound was loud and the fall violent, her hands reaching for her food but only managing to knock it down with her. Caine waved his cane and her seat was upright again, Pomni back in her seat. She was breathing like a startled deer, eyes wide and terrified. 

“Gooood morning, Pomni! Have you liked your stay here in the Amazing Digital Circus?” 

After a second, she found her voice. “Um, I don't think so?”

“My my! Why is that? I think Pomni needs to know this amazing world better!” 

“It is nine in the morning,” Zooble muttered angrily.

“Correct, Zooble! It is the perfect time for a…”

Ragatha suddenly found herself sitting in the shotgun of a small toy car. Gangle, Kinger, and Pomni were stuffed in the seats behind her.  

“Car ride!” Caine finished beside her. He was squeezed against her, pressing her body to Jax, who had spawned with his hands on the wheel. 

The teleportation no longer made her throw up. Her stomach turned and she felt a bile rise in her throat, but it quickly faded and nothing was left but a small headache at the back of her brain, as if she was slightly seasick. The feeling would soon pass, she knew. 

Pomni was another story. She shoved her head out the window and threw up with a single violent heave. 

They were outside, the digital sky a loud blue that stung her eyes. The toy car they were stuffed in was akin to those of a child’s, windowless, with the bottom half red and the rest yellow. The seats were cushiony, despite the fact that they looked like stiff, old plastic. 

“There’s no way this runs,” Jax said, looking at the pedals at his feet and pressing them individually. 

“Not until I do this!” Caine was now outside Ragatha’s window and she could straighten back into her seat. Caine waved his cane at them and the car roared and lurched forwards- Jax had had his foot firm on the accelerator. 

“Jesus!” Ragatha said, hitting her head on the headboard as Jax slammed the breaks.

They all stared, breathing heavily, at the steep downhill road they had been inches from falling down.  

“Careful!” Caine said with customary pure glee. “You wouldn’t want to kill all your passengers before the trip even begins, Jax!” 

Jax stared at the man of teeth as something akin to primal horror washed over him. His blood roared in his ears like a wave crashing over him, downing him with a metallic taste- with a start he realized he had bitten through his tongue. 

He didn’t have a tongue. 

“Jax?” Ragatha asked, miles away but right beside him. 

He breathed out and forced his knuckles to relax their grip on the steering wheel. “Where are we going, then?” 

“Just follow the road, and you will get there!” Caine winked at him. “Have a good drive, everyone! You sure need the fresh air!” 

Jax shot him the censored finger and Caine was gone, popped out of existence. The music was replaced with the sound of birds chirping, though there were no trees. The light buzzing of insects in the fields below was up here as well, humming with the sound like the fields of a summer camp. Like they were kids in summer or teenagers at the start of a movie. 

“Insects,” Kinger said, humming happily. He began tapping on the door at the rhythm.

“Well, we should go down there, then,” Ragatha said after a moment. 

“Will we not die?” Pomni said. “There’s no way this car sticks to the road.”

“Looks like a double black diamond,” Gangle said. 

“That looks like a hill, not a stone, Gangle.” Kinger said it as if he was correcting her. He blinked and went back to humming and staring out the window.

“It’s a ski thing,” Gangle replied, starting to pull her ribbon arm from around Kinger’s crown. 

“You skied?” Pomni asked. 

“Yes. Until I hurt my knee in a competition.” Gangle managed to unknot her arm from the crown and fell back into the seat. “Then I had to go get it operated on.”

“You still don’t remember anything?” Ragatha asked, looking at Pomni through the car’s mirror. 

Pomni shook her head. After a second, she nodded. “The morning before the party. I responded to some jerk’s email. They were pretty pissed about something. I was eating a warm donut filled with apple cinnamon and drinking a warm milk coffee.”

“Is that what you ate for breakfast today?” Jax said. It was the first thing he had said since Caine had left, and his voice felt thick and forced out. 

Pomni blinked. “Uh, I didn’t taste it. But yes, it looked like it.” 

“Where’s Zooble?” Gangle asked. 

“No idea.” Ragatha turned to Jax. “So, are you going to drive?”

Jax stared at her. His hands were still on the wheel. “Down there?” 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to go down there?” Jax repeated, dumbfounded. 

“Or are you a puss?” Ragatha smirked, leaning in. She was suddenly a mirror of him, of what he always did to her, eyebrows raised in a dare, smile infuriating and teasing.  

“I ain’t no puss,” he replied, leaning forward as well. He could feel her breath on his face. 

She grinned. 

She shoved him aside as she surged forwards. Her foot found the accelerator.

“Hold on!” She yelled as the toy car lurched forwards with a roar. 

Jax gripped the wheel, trying and failing to kick her foot away. “What the f@&$k are you doing?”

“Living a little!” she replied with a laugh. 

The car teetered on the abyss for a second, teasing them with the drop as if they were in a Loony Tunes episode, before plunging down so hard their stomachs lurched. Everyone was screaming and yelling, Jax was gripping the wheel, foot on the accelerator but unable to move. Ragatha was laughing and gripping the handle on the roof of the car, her other hand gripping the side of her seat. Gangle had flown into the back of the car and was now pressed against the back of the trunk by the g-force, screaming. Kinger and Pomni were clutching each other, unable to do anything else. 

The car hit the bottom of the hill hard, launching Gangle against the ceiling of the car. Jax finally slammed the brakes, but the car was now moving on its own, as if it was an automated toy. He released the wheel and it started turning by itself, following the straight road but spinning like a child’s rendition of what driving was like. The car slowed to a more normal pace and the group slowly caught their breaths. Gangle peeled off the ceiling of the car and fell, hard, onto Kinger and Pomni’s lap. 

She straightened and rubbed at her mask. Ragatha thought she might cry, but to her surprise, Gangle started to laugh. 

“I missed that!” She yelled, seemingly pumped as the adrenaline kept coursing through her. “God, I missed that!” 

Suddenly Ragatha was laughing too and the entire car joined in. He tried to fight it for a second, but the twitch at his lips was like a dam flooding and Jax found himself laughing as well. 

“Well, Rags, I didn’t think you had that in you,” he said, smiling at her. 

She grinned back at him. “I didn’t think you were such a puss, Jax, but here we are.”

“Being brave and being stupid are two very similar things,” he replied. “You should be careful, dollface.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said. “I know you liked it.” 

He acted miffed but again, a smile tugged at his mouth. 

“Where are we going?” Pomni asked. “I don’t recognize this from the tour.” 

“I’ve been out a lot,” Kinger said, “but I have never seen this, either, Pomni.” 

“Maybe we’re going to the lake?” Gangle had her happy mask on, but a familiar meek tone took over her voice for a second. “I don’t know.”

“I hope Zooble’s alright,” Ragatha said.

Jax nodded. The car settled into silence. They watched the fields, rolling, endless, and completely digital. The white clouds overlapped strangely, clearly a graphical choice. No matter how hard Jax tried, he could not smell the grass, the damp soil, the road. All that reached his nose was that strange digital smell that came with most new spaces: the smell of new plastic. The smell always unnerved him. It reminded him that this land was made by Caine, and that Caine was flawed and needed time to develop his maps. This should have been a good thing, it should have given him hope that they could somehow defeat or outsmart the AI,  but it only hammered in the fact that Caine was unstable. 

Jax didn’t know what drove Caine, what he had been programmed to do, where he got the ideas for his games. If he was connected to the outside world, he didn’t know. 

The ride felt endless. The road was straight but somehow there was no end to it, the horizon was road and fields and clouds. Jax could see Sun, above them, and he stuck his head out of the car and squinted up at her. 

“Hey, Sun!” he called. 

Sun, face frozen in a smile, said, “Hello!”

“D’ya know where this leads?” He asked, cupping his hand around his mouth to yell. 

Sun giggled. “Everywhere leads to nowhere!”

Jax stared at her. 

“HUH?” 

“Everywhere leads to nowhere! And nowhere leads to elsewhere! And Elsewhere leads to here!” Sun started to tip back and forth as if she was about to sing. Much to his horror, she did. “Everywhere leads to nowhere, and elsewhere leads to here! Everywhere leads to nowhere, and that’s where we’ll all kn-”

 “Ah, f^ck you!” He yelled, and he pulled himself back into the car. 

“What was that about?” Ragtha asked him. 

“Sun’s gone more crazy than Kinger,” he responded. “She’s singing.”

Ragatha stuck her head out the window and squinted up at Sun. 

“-all kneel! Everywhere leads to nowhere, and elsewhere leads to h-”

She pulled herself back into the car. “Yeah, that’s awful.”

Eventually the group did manage to see the end: a giant gap in the repeating sky’s pattern, as if cut out from the universe itself. On the other side, they could see a lake and a waterslide. The digital lake. Somewhere on the slide was Zooble, Jax could guess, forced to act as the lifeguard. That had happened before. His ears had rung for what felt like a week after a particularly hard blow from Zooble’s lifeguard whistle. 

His eyes wandered back to the road. Grass and grass and crop and crop of low bushes with near zero pixels. As he watched the bushes gradually started being filled with blue dots- blueberries, he could guess. They gained pixels, shapes rounding, until they started to glitch out from too much detail and the game settled on a normal, low-render bush shape instead. 

Something pricked at the back of his neck. He poked his head out of the window again, letting the wind flap his ears behind him. He looked at the sky, the clouds suddenly a dark gray. 

The air smelled like storm. 

The road was damp and slick and smooth and the air smelled of wet soil and storm and the world was completely, utterly, so wrongly still. 

Something broke the fields of green. A streak of brown, coming closer. A simple, modest sign made of basic wood, letters black and swooping. 

He couldn’t breathe. The cushion of the seat pressed against him and the air was hot and he couldn’t breathe. His hands trembled violently as they found the handle to the door. He pulled and it miraculously opened, he fell out of the car the way a domino falls to a finger. 

Ragatha yelled at him and the car stopped but he could not answer, he could only crawl on the ground as his limbs shook with fear and once again that animalistic, primal terror. 

He started to heave for air that would not come, his heart pounding over Ragatha’s yells. His skin buzzed with the lightning in the clouds and the feeling of Caine realizing something was wrong. Ragatha grasped him by the arm but still he heaved and heaved and heaved, as if he was going to vomit but could not. 

“What did you see?” she asked him. “What did you feel?”

There was something like hope in her eyes, peeking through her worry. Maybe he felt his body, maybe he saw an exit. Nothing but hopelessness swallowed his air. 

Still on all fours, forearms sinking into the thick mud, he looked up at the sign. It was gone. Glitched out. Stowed away from them. And yet he knew that in the time he remained here, he would never forget what it had read. 

 welcome to 

Richmond! 

Chapter Text

The digital lake was nothing special. It was poorly rendered, had no sandbed, and the water only rippled when you jumped in or threw rocks. That was what Zooble was doing when they got there: throwing rocks at the lake, eyes glazed over with the repetitive motion. No matter how they threw the rock, it always bounced exactly three times, in the exact same spot. The ripples were always the same size and shape, and no matter how hard Zooble searched, it was always the same rock.

“No running,” Zooble muttered as the group passed them.

They were wearing a white shirt draped over their blocky torso, a single red whistle hanging from their neck. The rest of the group nodded at the same time. This was more of a ritual than anything, and Ragatha saw Pomni do the same thing, eyes wide so she could drink in the new location.

The digital lake was a very common destination for them. It was pretty boring, going down those slides got old really quick, but Caine insisted on them getting on a certain amount of times before they could return to the circus. He had even added a scoreboard tallying the amount of times each person went down. It was leaning on Zooble’s lifeguard chair.

As Pomni passed it, Zooble suddenly blew their whistle.

“Hey, you! GODAMNIT!”

They jumped off their chair and waded into the water, grasping a star with eyes by one of its spikes and dragging it to shore, cursing the entire way. They released the star and it made a strange, happy squeal, waved at Zooble, then bounced off to join the rest of the cartoon shapes gathered at the base of the giant water slides.

“Goddamn you, Caine, goddamn you.” Over and over they muttered the words as they sat.

“The shapes are relatively new,” Ragatha explained to Pomni as they took their place in line for the slide. “Caine thought Zooble had it too easy. He said they needed more stimulation.”

“What happens if they just let the things drown?”

“They spawn in Zooble’s room,” Jax said. “It’s quite amusing.”

Jax had completely ignored all their strange looks the rest of the car ride, and he had refused to explain to Ragatha when she had asked him about his incident directly. Nobody in the group knew what he had seen, what he had felt. Ragatha didn’t know if it was something good or god-awful, and here it was more likely the latter. She had let him be, for the moment, but couldn’t help it as her eyes settled on him with a burning question behind them.

Jax caught her looking but turned his eyes back to Pomni and started talking to her about water slides. The conversation looked boring and Jax kept tripping Gangle in front of him. Eventually, Pomni slunk back and took her spot beside Ragatha.

“Can I drown?” Pomni asked quietly.

Ragath blinked. “What did you say?”

“Can I drown? Here, I mean. In the lake.”

The words had shook with fear but it was clear she had thought about it long and hard. Ragatha spun around and looked her in the eyes. Her adrenaline had spiked.

“No, Pomni, don’t you even think about it. The second you’re in that water, you get out, understand?”

“Why?” Pomni looked scared. Good. Let her be scared. That’s how you survived here.

“Your digital file and mind get ripped into binary in there. You lose your body but still feel the pain. You don’t die.”

“I have no mouth but I must scream.” The words were shushed.

Ragatha nodded. “You’d be better off with the abstractions. At least, as far as we can tell, they don’t feel pain.”

“How do you know, though? Have you tried it?”

Ragatha shook her head. “I’ve seen it happen. It’s terrible, Pomni. Absolutely terrible. You can’t do anything but listen to their screams. The process is fast but not fast enough, and knowing they’re out there, existing in eternal pain-“ Ragatha inhaled. “Just don’t, okay?”

“Did Caine tell you that?” Pomni asked.

Ragatha nodded. “After Carrie-“ she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out the memories pounding at her brain. “We lost her to the lake. Like you're probably thinking, she thought it was a way out. She preferred death than whatever this limbo is. Jax was so distraught he threatened to drown himself too if Caine didn’t tell him what she was going through. So Caine did. He showed him. Then, when Herald- when Herald drowned, Caine showed me. And-“

Ragatha shook her head. The words weren’t coming out anymore. Her throat was closed.

I got stuck there.

Two minutes for Caine and Jax. Years for her. Liquid hours and days, one or five or eight or sixteen years if she thought too hard about it.

Again, an inhale. “Just don’t risk it, Pomni. Get in, get out.”

Pomni nodded and began climbing the stairs to the top of the slide.