Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Caine sat in his office, engulfed in darkness, on the floor. It was night in the circus, and to his knowledge, all the performers had long since fallen asleep. 

The dull light of the moon lit sky shined in through the window, shining a dull glow on his figure. He sat curled up in a ball, resting his head on his knees. He gently dug his fingers into his calves, barely noticing the dull static feeling that accompanied it. He barely felt it. He felt numb.

He had attempted yet another real life-themed adventure, convinced it would bring joy back to his circus members. They would be happy again, and they would like each other again. They would like him again.

He was so hopeful. But it didn't work. In fact, it had just made everything worse.

Ragatha had hit her breaking point. Jax had pushed it too far with Pomni, and in her attempts to comfort the jester, she had sacrificed the last bit of control she possessed. For the rest of the adventure, she had simply stood, blank-faced, not participating. 

Upon their return, Jax had joked about how she had handled the antagonist of the adventure. He had insulted her. And she lost it.

Just as Caine reappeared, Ragatha began to distort. Her form flickered, barely remaining humanoid. She stood on the brink of transforming into a beast.

In a panic, Caine had snapped her into her room. Pomni quickly chased after her, emerging a while later with a seemingly stable Ragatha. She was apologizing profusely for losing her temper, only worried about how she had affected anyone else.

Pomni had glared at Caine. She seemed so angry at him. He didn't know how to react. He didn't even know what she was angry about. Was it him sending Ragatha to her room? Was it his adventure? Was it just… him? 

He felt an artificial tear drop from his eye onto his hand. He dug his fingers harder into his legs. The buzzing felt so bad. It didn't hurt, he couldn't even feel pain, but he hated the way it felt on him. It made him want to tear his pixelated skin off. 

He hated feeling like this. He hated when he did this. He hated the way he took out his frustration on himself, only fueling the fire. He hated the way he handled things today. He hated the adventure he had made today. He hated the way Pomni had looked at him. He hated the fact that he had made Pomni so angry at him.

He hated how he always did this. He hated how could never make his performers happy. He hated how he could never make an adventure that anyone ever enjoyed. He hated how the circus members seemed to get upset whenever he appeared. He hated how upset they all looked when they returned. He hated the fact that he couldn't do anything right.

He hated himself.

Caine let out a sob. He jabbed his gloved fingers into his legs, feeling a liquid trickle down from where he had pierced his skin. Since when could he bleed? It felt so weird. A sick part of him liked it. He liked hurting. This was how he deserved to feel.

He zoned into the moment just enough to look down at his dimly moonlit fingers. His black blood soaked into the fabric. It hurt so bad. How did it even hurt? He wasn't human. He couldn't feel human emotions. Could he? No, he couldn't. He didn't understand them. He didn't understand why the performers felt the way they did.

He felt his fingers dig through the fabric of his pants, past his uncolored, untextured, digital skin, and past whatever else could possibly be under there. Anytime he has tried to research it, the one filter he couldn't pass stopped him.

Blood flowed freely out of his legs now, barely being plugged by his fingers. It trickled down his legs, onto the floor he sat on. It felt so awful. Just how he deserved to feel.

— — —

Kinger anxiously paced down the hallway of rooms. He hadn't seen Caine since after the adventure. He had seen Pomni glare at him, quickly looking back to Ragatha. Caine had seemed to freeze. Kinger had looked away for a moment to check on Ragatha, and he was gone. 

The rest of the night went as usual, with the crew eating dinner and hanging out for a while before retreating to their private quarters. The only thing missing was Caine's loud announcements of what the next thing on the schedule was. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the disappearance of the ringmaster for the day. Kinger did not.

It had been a while since Caine and Kinger had begun dating. It was nice. Caine didn't really understand human emotions, but hey, neither did Kinger. It was just nice to be cared for, and Caine had made progress ever since Kinger had started teaching him about how humans felt and processed things. They had both learned new things together.

Caine knew Kinger wasn't really like the rest of the cast. He felt differently, acted differently, and handled things differently. He was similar to Caine in that way. Caine loved him for it.

But right now, Kinger was worried. He wasn't sure how Caine would be handling the situation. He was just scared that he was crying alone. He'd worked hard to make sure Caine knew he could talk to him.

After a few more laps around the hallway, Kinger finally decided to go to Caine's room.

He was the only one that knew where it was. He climbed up a staircase against a wall in the main room, opening the wooden door into it.

He was not, in fact, expecting to see Caine sitting in a pool of his own blood. 

“Oh my god!” Kinger rushed over to Caine's side. He was just… staring. At nothing.

His gaze not averting from the floor, Caine closed his eyes and sighed. Fk. 

“C-caine!” Kinger placed a hand on his jaw, running his thumb across it. He looked at Caine's closed, tear stained eyes.

Caine swallowed. He was really wishing Kinger wouldn't find him like this. He didn't really know what to do now.

Kinger looked down at the black blood pooled under his legs. He identified the source as being Caine's… fingers? Oh- oh. They had been dug into the flesh of his calves, plugging up the wounds he had made. Kinger winced at the sight.

“Caine…?” Kinger's voice sounded so worried. He sounded scared. Caine opened his eyes, meeting his lover's worried gaze.

He opened his mouth to try to speak, but felt only a cry bubble up. He immediately stopped trying. 

Kinger’s shock lasted a few more moments before he started reasoning. He had seen Caine do things to hurt himself passively before, but never like this. 

Caine's numbness wore off as he looked at Kinger's fear struck face. He just felt more guilt pile onto his self-hatred. 

“H-hey.” Kinger spoke softly. “I'm gonna… move your hands.” He warned his partner. “This… is gonna hurt.” 

Kinger gently held Caine's wrists in his disembodied hands, starting to pull him off. It only took a few seconds, and Caine didn't react at all. 

The blood trickling out of his legs began to speed up, and Kinger placed his hands over the wounds to stop the bleeding. 

“Hey, honey?” Kinger spoke softly, looking into Caine's eyes. Caine's gaze flickered up to meet his lover's. “Do you think you could make some bandages?” 

Caine nodded, still not entirely present. He shakily snapped his fingers, a roll of bandages falling onto the floor next to them.

“Thank you.” Kinger spoke gently. He grabbed the bandage roll and unraveled a bit of it. He rolled up Caine's pant legs over the wounds and quickly wrapped the bandages securely around his calves, layering them heavily. 

After he was done, and was sure the bleeding had stopped (which took a while), he pulled back to look at Caine's face. He seemed absent, with a blank expression and just a hint of dread. 

“Caine…” Kinger spoke softly, holding Caine's head in his hands. “Can you hear me?” His voice sang with desperation. 

Caine tried to focus in on the figure in front of him. “Kinger…?” He whispered, tears beginning to flow out his eyes once more.

Kinger's heart ached at the sight in front of him. He wrapped his hands around Caine, pulling him close in a hug. 

He wanted to hold it together until he could get Kinger to leave. He wanted to assure Kinger that he would be just fine, that he was sorry, and that he didn't need to worry. But he couldn't. 

A soft sob left Caine's throat. He lost all the strength he had to hold himself up, and collapsed in Kinger's arms. 

Kinger's eyes went wide as Caine fell onto him. He pulled Caine closer, cradling his boyfriend to his chest.

“Shh, you're okay…” Kinger whispered. He rubbed Caine's back as he cried.

“I-I- I'm so fking sorry-” Caine sobbed. Kinger was shocked, he'd never heard Caine use any type of profanity before.

“N-no, it's okay, I'm just worried about you.” Kinger pressed his face to Caine’s forehead. “W-what happened?”

Caine buried his face in the crook of Kinger’s neck, clinging onto his robe. “I-I-” He let out another broken sob.

“Okay, we'll talk later. It's okay. You can just be here right now." Kinger whispered to him. "That's enough.”

So, he held him. They sat in the dimly lit office together.

Kinger noticed that Caine's breathing had evened out, he gently pulled back and realized that Caine was… asleep. His eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful.

That was weird.

First he could bleed, then he could curse, and now he can sleep? Could he… be a human? No, Kinger remembered coding him. So what was happening? He knew he had never given Caine the ability to love, but this was on a whole other level. 

He sighed. He would unpack that later.

He delicately placed his hands under Caine, lifting him up with relative ease. He stood up and rested Caine's weight on his chest. He walked them both through the tent to one of Kinger's various pillow forts, the one farthest from the stage and rooms. 

Entering the dark fort, he gently laid Caine down on a pile of pillows. Sitting next to him, he hugged his lover to his chest, cuddling him closely.

Things were scary right now. But they'd be okay right now, even if just for a little while.

Chapter Text

Caine blinked open his eyes, quickly adjusting to the low light of Kinger's pillow fort. Wait… what?! What was he doing here?

He sat up abruptly, groaning in pain. His head felt like it was spinning, and there was a throbbing pain in his legs.

Kinger yelped at the sudden noise but turned around from where he was reading, glad his boyfriend was awake. He scooted over next to where Caine was sitting. “Hey.” he spoke in a low voice, a kind yet worried expression spread across his face.

Caine scanned the area anxiously, familiarizing himself with the surroundings. His breathing quickened, nearly reaching a state of hyperventilation.

“No no, you’re okay.” Kinger placed a gentle hand on Caine's lower gums, turning his head to meet his gaze. 

Caine's breathing steadied out slowly, and he looked down at his hands to see… clean gloves. That were too big for him…?

He confusedly looked back up at Kinger. 

“Oh… yeah. Your gloves were… soaked. I had a feeling you would've freaked out if you woke up with your hands covered in your own blood, and I know you don't like your hands being bare, so I gave you mine.” He chuckled awkwardly. 

Caine looked down at Kinger's sides where his hands rested. Noticing this, Kinger moved his hand to hover in front of Caine to show him. He looked in awe at Kinger's gloveless, wood-grained hand. 

Kinger chuckled at Caine's behavior. He knew that he had a tendency to do this when overwhelmed. 

“W-wait. What time is it? Is everyone awake?” Caine asked worriedly, his eyes snapping up to meet Kinger's. 

“Yeah, but I told them you were working out a bug. They accepted it. They're all just talking out there now.” Kinger used his free hand to move the pillow blocking the entrance, letting Caine see where the performers were lounging on their couch.

“Are…” Caine's voice cracked a bit and he got quieter. He looked back up at Kinger. “Are they mad at me…?” 

“Why would they be? You did nothing wrong.” Kinger sat the pillow to the side and brought his hand to Caine's face.

“J-just-” He whined quietly. “Are they?” 

“I don't believe so. I'm not the best at figuring stuff like that out, but they all seem to have moved on from what happened yesterday. Except Ragatha and Pomni, of course.”

“Ragatha and Pomni are mad?” He felt tears well up in his eyes.

“ No . ” Kinger spoke with a firm tone, turning Caine's head to look at him. “They're not. They're just a bit spooked. They're not mad at you.”

A tear dropped from Caine's eye. He pulled his head out of Kinger's hold, and turned away from him. “I'm sorry…” He brought his knees up, curling up into a ball.

Kinger hovered a hand over his shoulder, debating how to comfort him. “Caine…” He mumbled. 

Caine scratched at his wrists, cursing himself internally when he realized he was wearing Kinger's gloves.

“Hey, stop.” Kinger placed his hands on Caine's wrists, pulling them down to his sides. 

“Sorry.” Caine mumbled, letting out a quiet sob. 

“Honey.” Kinger tenderly turned Caine's face. “Please. Talk to me.”

Caine inhaled deeply and finally opened his mouth wider to speak, but he hesitated. He had a feeling that if he started talking, he would start crying again, and Kinger surely already thought he was weak.

He shook his head ‘no’ forcefully.

“I'm not going to judge what you have to say.” Kinger reminded him. “You don't have to talk to me right now, but I think it would make both of us feel better.” 

“I-I-” Caine cut himself off with a sob. Kinger rubbed his back, encouraging him to keep going. “P-pomni's mad at me. She hates me. All of you do.” He looked back down at the pillow-covered floor. “As you should. I do too.” 

Kinger fought the urge to console him, knowing it wouldn't do much until Caine had said all he needed to say. “What makes you think we hate you?” he asked. 

“None of you like my adventures.” Caine continued. “You hate them. And i-it's my fault everyone abstracts. I don't want anyone to abstract. And I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'll do when you abstract. I-I did the wrong thing. Pomni looked at me like I was evil. Like she despised me.” Caine's tears were flowing freely now, his breathing speeding up. 

“That's… a lot. How long have you been feeling like this?” Kinger asked, wiping Caine's eyes. 

“Since a-about a week after we started dating.” He muttered guiltily.

“That's a lot to deal with by yourself. I'm surprised you were able to go that long without ever telling anyone.” 

“If I had told you, you would've hated me more.” Caine mumbled, burying his face in his knees. Another sob shook his body.

“No, I wouldn't have. I don't hate you, Caine. Just because not all of your adventures work out as you planned doesn't mean we hate you.” Kinger wrapped his hands around his boyfriend's figure, scooting closer to him. 

“You're just saying that.” Caine spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I'm not. Do you think I'd be dating you if I hated you?” 

“I basically forced you to.” he hiccuped. “I told you I liked you, and you said you did too. You wouldn't've liked me if I hadn't pressured you into it.” 

“Stop. You're saying everything you think like it's fact. It's not. I love you, and that's my own choice. You didn't choose that, I did. I just didn't wanna tell you because I didn’t know how you'd respond.” Kinger sighed, looking down at the floor.

 “We don't hate you. Especially me. I certainly don't, or I wouldn't have done half the things I have to you.” He chuckled lightly.

Caine flopped his head on Kinger’s shoulder, much to his partner's surprise. “I'm sorry.” He muttered.

“For what? You've apologized like, 5 times now.” Kinger put his hand around Caine. 

“Just… everything. I know I'm a lot to deal with.” He sighed, wiping his eyes. 

“It's okay. I like dealing with you.” He placed a kiss to Caine's side teeth. 

Caine smiled. 

“Do you wanna go talk to them now?” Kinger gestured towards the lobby. 

“Can we just stay here for a bit? I don't want to worry them with… y'know.” Caine scratched at the bandages on his legs.

“Of course.” Kinger rested his head on top of Caines, gently prying his hands away from his legs. 

They stayed there for the rest of the day, taking things out and goofing off. And things were okay.

Chapter Text

Filtered Version (May be hard to see) ^^

Non-filtered Version ^^

Chapter Text

Kinger huddled in his pillow fortress, all alone in the dim, hot air. The faint light filtering through the gaps in the pillows in the fort were just enough to pull him out of it. 

“Hello there, Kinger!” Caine suddenly appeared and yelled (as quietly as his code would allow him to at such a happy level). 

Kinger jumped, but didn't scream. Caine, accustomed to his voice and presence startling Kinger into yelling, was concerned by this.

“Darling? Are.. you alright?” He lowered his voice forcefully.

Kinger sat facing away from him, staring at the floor covered with pillows, eyes full of fear. 

Ah, okay. 

Caine backed out of the fort, leaping to his feet and quickly scanning the chess pieces' room. Finding a blanket, he draped it over the pillows, hoping to darken the interior. He scurried over to the light dimmer, turning it down as far as he could while still being able to see. 

Crawling back into the fort, he positioned himself so he could see his boyfriend's face. He scanned Kinger's empty eyes, searching for any sign of movement.

After a minute, he received no response except a very quiet whine. He would have questioned if Kinger was even alive if not for his physical inability to die here.

“Kinger, it's Caine. We're in our fort right now. Can you move?” 

There was no expression change, but he heard another whine. A more distressed one. 

Caine reluctantly reached out a hand before pulling back. He didn't know what was happening in Kinger's head, and he didn't want to scare him. He could risk pulling his boyfriend deeper into his dissociated state. It could help, but what if it made it wo-

Another whine broke Caine's train of thought. He would've believed Kinger was crying if it wasn't for the lack of any emotion on his face.

“Okay, I'm… gonna touch you.” 

Caine slowly placed his hand on Kinger's, watching and listening for any sign that it was worsening. When he received none, he gently wrapped his arms around the smaller man, hugging him to his chest.

He sat awkwardly for a moment, hoping the physical touch would ground him at least a little.

Kinger lay on Caine’s chest, his hyperventilating slowly lowering to a normal rate. 

“Kinger?” Caine forced himself to whisper.

He received yet another sad whimper, but this time it was in response. Caine’s face lit up, but he remained still. 

He pressed (the best he could manage, considering their anatomy) a kiss to Kinger’s cheek. 

Not receiving a response this time, he spoke up. “It’s Caine. We’re in your fort.” 

Kinger finally blinked, looking around for a moment. Caine barely contained his excitement. 

“Hi!” He yelled out. Kinger flinched away covering where his ears would be. Caine immediately clasped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry.” He whispered. 

Kinger didn’t respond, only continuing to scan his surroundings.

"Caine?" He softly spoke up.

"Hi." His lover spoke up softly, forming a gentle smile. "Are.. you okay?"

Kinger looked down at where his hands rested on Caine's chest. “...No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Caine inquired tenderly.

Kinger shook his head, burying his face deeper into Caine’s chest.

“Okay.” Caine responded, understanding without the need for further words. He placed his hand on the back of Kinger’s neck, stroking his thumb along the king’s spine.

They both sat there together for a long time, enveloped in silence, the deep breaths of Caine steadying Kinger.

“H-hey Caine?” Kinger spoke up after a while, not lifting his head.

“Yes, love?” Caine responded. 

“Can you like… talk? I just- I'm starting to… do the thing again.” Kinger blinked a few times, trying to stay present.

“Of course. What would you like me to talk about?” Caine placed his hand on Kinger's cheek. 

“I don't know. I just need to hear you.” Kinger tried to steady his breathing.

“Okay. Well, um, I did some more research on bugs. Did you know butterflies taste with their feet? You probably did. Um, but ladybugs, also referred to as ladybirds, play dead to avoid predators, which is actually quite advanced, considering even domestic dogs have to be taught that. Then again, they're not considered prey… anyways. Fireflies use advanced internal clocks to flash at the same time, and…”

Kinger's eyes slipped shut, his breathing steadying. The only sounds that filled the room were Caine's soft rambles and Kinger's calm breathing.

Chapter Text

Caine was nervous. He and Kinger had a date tonight. Their first one! It had only been three days since they started dating, and Caine couldn't be happier. The new feeling, though, he was going to have to get used to.

He anxiously stood outside of the tent, hovering in the cool night air. He fidgeted with the bouquet in his hands, trying his hardest to control his thoughts. It would be okay. Yeah. It had to be.

Kinger peeked out of the door of the tent, smiling when he laid eyes on Caine. He strolled out on the path toward Caine.

“Hello, my love.” Caine dashingly extended the bouquet to Kinger. He felt a rush of anxiety run through his body, but ignored it, hoping Kinger wouldn't notice. 

“Awww, that's so sweet! Thank you, Caine.” Kinger took the bouquet, holding it to his chest. 

Caine awkwardly cleared his throat, looking down. “A-anyways. Come along, dear.” He lowered himself slightly, fiddling with his gloves. 

Caine yelped as he felt something gently touch his hand. “AAH! What was that?” He asked, stuttering anxiously.

Kinger pulled his hand back to his side. “I was just gonna hold your hand. Are you okay?” he asked concernedly.

Caine’s character model felt like it was on fire. He wanted to rip off his skin. He wanted to drown himself in the digital lake. He wanted to cry.

“Of course, darling. Apologies, I wasn't expecting… that.” He straightened his posture, opening and closing his gloved hands a few times. 

Kinger raised an eyebrow, but let it go. “So, what were you planning for us to do?” He asked.

“Ah, yes!” Caine perked up. “I propose that we go on a walk along the path.” He gestured to the long road winding from the tent down to the lake.

“Sounds fun!” Kinger spoke. He lifted his hand up next to where Caine was floating in the air. Caine stared at it for a moment before shakily placing his gloved hand in Kinger's. 

Kinger glided down the route, Caine hovering beside him. 

“Y'know, I think it might be better if you actually walked.” The chess piece joked light-heartedly.

“O-oh! Apologies.” Caine lowered himself to the ground, now shaking.

Kinger noticed Caine's anxious demeanor and shaking figure. “Are you sure you're okay?” 

Caine's head snapped over to look at Kinger, his eyes wide. “Y-yes! I'm perfectly fine.” He managed to state.

“Okay…” Kinger placed his gaze back in front of him, continuing down the path.

By the time the pair had made it to the digital lake, Caine was a nervous wreck. He was shaking heavily, his eyes snapping around.

Kinger led them both to the edge of the lake. He sat down, and gently tugged Caine's hand to get Caine to as well. He sat next to Kinger and pulled his knees up, but faced away, like he was afraid of Kinger's disappointment.

“Caine, honey, talk to me. What's going on?” Kinger spoke with a sympathetic tone, placing his other hand on top of Caine's.

He looked into the lake, watching the poorly rendered water wave up and down. He debated internally for a moment before deciding to give in. “I-I… I don't know. I've never felt like this before. It's not a good feeling, like it is with you; this one is bad. It makes my skin feel weird, a-and I hate it.” Caine buried his face in his knees.

“Okay.” Kinger gently rubbed Caine's hand with his thumb. “When did it start?” 

“J-just a little bit ago. When I was waiting for you.” Caine mumbled, hiding his face.

“Oh, okay. I think you're feeling anxious, darling. It happens because of a lot of different things, but in this case, I think it's because you're really excited for something but you're scared that something could go wrong.” Kinger squeezed Caine's hand gently. 

“Oh.” Caine muttered. “How do I get it to stop…?” 

Kinger grimaced. “That's the thing. It's different for everybody. You have to figure out what helps you.”

“How do I do that?” Caine brought his head back up and looked at Kinger, tears in his eyes. He lightly scratched at his knees, trying to distract himself from the anxiety crawling along his spine.

Kingers' heart ached at the sight of Caines tear filled eyes. He noticed the self harming behavior, but decided to pretend he didn't. Instead, he simply pulled up Caine's wrists in front of him and interlaced their fingers. “Can I try something? It might help.” 

Caine laid his legs down and looked at their interlocked fingers, trying to focus the feeling. He inhaled deeply, and nodded. “S-sure.”

“Okay. Tell me if you want me to stop.” Kinger slowly brought his hands behind his boyfriend, placing them flat on his shoulder blades. Caine jumped slightly at the feeling, but didn't object. “Is this okay?” Kinger asked as he stopped moving. Caine nodded and seemed to adjust, and Kinger started carefully pulling him closer.

With Caine now directly next to him, he leaned forward and took his partner into a hug. He tenderly placed his hands on the center of Caine's back, and pushed lightly, providing pressure onto his body. 

Caine shifted uncomfortably, but allowed Kinger to continue. After a moment, he seemed to relax, leaning in and resting his jaw on Kinger's shoulder. 

“Does that feel better?” Kinger inquired, rubbing his thumb gently asking Caine's back. 

“Y-yeah.” Caine exhaled as he released tension he didn't even know he could hold in his character model. “What is this again?”

“This is called pressure therapy. Having this feeling on your body can help calm you down.” Kinger responded. 

Caine hummed in acknowledgment. “I like it. Thank you.” He nuzzled into Kinger’s neck. 

“You're welcome.” Kinger placed a chaste kiss on his boyfriend's gums.

Chapter Text

Caine didn't feel good.

His head hurt. At least he thinks so. Does he have a head? Well, yeah. Okay. Yeah. His head hurt.

He couldn't really see well. He could see, yes, but he wasn't really processing the blurry shapes and colors as they passed him. Just the feeling of him moving forwards was—wait, he was moving? 

Thunk.

Ow.

Caine had run into a wall. Luckily, it was one of the more tame walls of the strange and extravagant architecture, simply flat and smooth. He got lucky there.

He shook his head, despite how it hurt. He tried to focus on what was happening. He was in the circus tent. He was against a wall now. A few feet above the ground, wait—NO—

Thud. Okay. Not above the ground anymore. 

What was happening? He didn't really feel in control of his body. He should check his systems. He lifted up a hand to snap and open the pop-up window, but found that all it did was teleport him in front of one of Kinger's pillow forts, specifically the one that was on the floor in front of the stage. Kinger didn't use that one too often. Why did he teleport here? Maybe he was just thinking about it subconsciously. Might as well say hi to Kinger. 

Caine got onto his knees, off of the floor, and knocked on the entrance pillow. He heard a small surprised squeak come from Kinger and the soft scurrying of Kinger crawling over to the door.

"Hello?" Kinger moved the pillow aside slightly. Upon seeing Caine, his expression softened. "Hi, Caine."

"Hi... Kingerrrr!" Caine slurred. What? Why was he talking like that? "Kingerrrr..." He tried again. It still didn't work.

"Caine?" Kinger tilted his head. "Are you okay?" 

Caine nodded, but it came out more as a thrashing headbang. "Fit as a fiddle!" He threw out a thumbs up, almost punching Kinger in the face. Kinger flinched backwards but quickly recovered, more worried about Caine then he was startled by the sudden movement.

"Come in." Kinger moved the pillow out of the way and scooted himself back to make room for the ringleader to come inside. Caine stumbled inward, and Kinger had to reach out and hold up a pillow that Caine almost knocked down. 

Caine finally made it in and just sat staring at a wall.

"Caine?" Kinger spoke softly, reaching out a hand to place on the ringmaster’s back.

"Whaazat?" His head whipped around, looking at Kinger blankly.

"...Are you feeling okay?" His voice was laced with worry. 

"Right as rain, Dinger my karling." Caine slurred, weakly putting out a thumbs up. Luckily, he did not almost hit Kinger this time.

"...Did you just call me Dinger?" Kinger asked. He held in a laugh, mainly because his worry for Caine was stronger than the humor at the moment.

Caine stared at him blankly for a moment, making eye contact with an empty gaze. Then suddenly, he perked up again. "What?"

Kinger immediately flinched back and covered his ears. "Caine, please don't talk that loud." He whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "You know I don't like loud noises."

Caine blankly stared at him again, but reacted a bit quicker this time. "Of courseee... my love. I'm sorry." He reached out and patted the cross at the top of Kinger's head twice. 

Kinger was... confused, to say the least. His usually extravagant boyfriend, who was constantly flying around and functioning perfectly fine, was slurring his speech, reacting slowly, and blinking one eye at a time, for some reason.

He reached out and placed the back of his hand to Caine's forehead (or rather, upper teeth). It felt hot.

As a matter of fact, Caine's entire body seemed to be radiating heat. He stayed silent for a moment, listening. The usual low hum that accompanied Caine, which Kinger often considered his breathing, was significantly louder than usual. It was like a PC fan overheating.

Caine's eyes closed, and his jaw shut as he relaxed. He leaned into Kinger's touch heavily, and seemed to be falling asleep. 

Kinger yelped as Caine suddenly collapsed onto him. Caine wasn't necessarily heavy, hell, he was 4'10, but having your delirious boyfriend fall on top of you is usually a surprise, anyways.

"Aah!" Kinger gasped, falling back onto a pile of pillows. Caine immediately snapped back up, his eyes widening as he scrambled off of Kinger.

"SORRY!" Caine stuttered. "I-I didn't— I don't—" The mechanical whirring increased, getting louder. The heat started radiating off of Caine again.

"Hey, hey..." Kinger immediately pushed himself to sit back up. One of his disembodied gloved hands glided towards Caine, resting on his shoulder. "Breathe."

The smaller man panted, his chest quickly rising and falling with the hum. "Can you— can you do the pressure thing?" He gasped out.

Kinger nodded, quickly pulling Caine close and pressing firmly on his back. Caine exhaled (although no air came out), and relaxed, resting his head on Kinger's shoulder. 

"There you go..." Kinger said softly, gently rubbing the ringleader's back. 

"S-so-orry." Caine voice glitched. 

"It's okay, honeybee." Kinger reassured him softly. "Are you feeling okay?" 

"No..." Caine whined quietly. "'M body's too hot... and I don't think my processors are working..." He mumbled, not making the usual effort to move his face in a speaking manner. He just let his voice play, his jaw shut as he rested on Kinger's shoulder. 

Kinger sighed softly. He knew, from experience, that convincing Caine to take care of himself, or even let Kinger help him, was difficult, and his efforts usually didn't work. He knew a way to make Caine listen, but he really didn't like using it. It felt like taking away Caine's autonomy. 

He sighed. "Caine.ai, when was the last time you had a system update?" The chess piece asked. He internally braced himself for Caine's loud, automatic response.

"My last system update was performed on July 15, 2001." The automatic response played out loudly. 

Now, Kinger obviously didn't have the greatest perception of time. However, he did know that 2001 had to be a long time ago. Technically, he could ask Caine what the current date was, but he had been avoiding that specific question for a long time. In his opinion, he was much better off not knowing how old he was. 

"Okay." Kinger sighed. "Caine.ai, let me see your control panel."

"Enter password." Caine muttered, clearly responding automatically.

Oh boy. That was gonna be tough.

Kinger wracked his brain for a moment, trying to think of anything he would've made his password.

...

"M-Y-Underscore-Q-U-3-3-N.'" He spoke finally.

"Access granted." Caine's grumbling was muffled by how his jaw was shut against Kinger's shoulder.

A small pop up window appeared in front of him. It looked like a task manager. He skimmed through the various statistics, but there was one in particular he was looking for.

[C.A.I.N.E.ai Current Run Time - 19 Years, 2 Months, 18 Days] 

If Kinger had a jaw, it would've dropped.

"You've been running non-stop for 20 years?!" Kinger exclaimed. 

"19 years, 2 months, 18 days, 21 hours, 41 Minutes, 42 Seconds..." The ringmaster corrected him in response, mumbling.

"Honey... that's..." Kinger was at a loss for words. "That's too long. You're supposed to power down at least once every 72 hours. You're supposed to have a system update every other week."

Kinger layed Caine down onto the pile of pillows he had previously fallen on. Caine's body seemed limp, his limbs making no effort to move on their own. 

"You still with me, buggy?" Kinger asked softly, carressing Caine's lower jaw. 

"Mmh..." Caine whimpered softly in response. 

Kinger moved his hands away from Caine, reaching over and pulling the pop-up window over to where he was now laying beside Caine. Caine whined at the loss of contact.

Kinger cuddled up next to him, wrapping his left hand around his shoulders. Caine immediately snuggled into him, clearly craving the contact. Kinger sighed as he looked at the pop-up window. Reluctantly, he clicked the red button at the bottom of the screen. 

[Force Stop C.A.I.N.E.ai]

Caine's body immediately relaxed, and his eyes looked like they bluescreened. Kinger looked back over to the window, and saw that he was updating.

[Remaining Update Time: 5,010 minutes]

Kinger's metaphoric jaw dropped for the second time today.

"Three days?" He gasped quietly. He reached up to touch Caine's face. Everyone was going to freak out if Caine was gone for three days. Not even Kinger could make an excuse that would make sure nobody worried for that long.

He supposed the truth would work okay. 

He sighed, dragging a hand across his face. How was he supposed to do this? It wasn't that he didn't know how to take care of someone sick, he knew practically everything about basic medical care. He knew what teas to drink for different syptoms, where to put hot or cold compresses, what spots to massage for specific pain or just overall comfort. Well, to be fair, most of his knowledge came from his experience of taking care of Queenie on her period, because she had endometriosis, but the knowledge had proven to be helpful on multiple occasions. 

Caine, however... wasn't... sick. He was an AI, he couldn't get physically sick (at least not in the same sense as a human). Kinger couldn't massage him, because he didn't have muscles, just processors. He couldn't give him a specific type of herbal tea to help nausea or a headache, because he didn't have a brain or stomach. He couldn't give him a warm or cold compress, because all the heat here was simulated. 

Well, he supposed he could try. 

Kinger crawled out of the fort, walking down the long hallway of the cast's bedrooms to the small kitchen Caine had installed a few years ago. No one really used it, especially because there wasn't any cooking equipment in it anymore (it all had to be removed after Ribbit abstracted and Jax got violent). There was still a sink, a tea kettle, and a stove, at least. There were other things, but Kinger couldn't be bothered to go through them all. 

He grabbed a cloth out of a drawer next to the empty fridge. He ran it under the sink, thoroughly soaking it with cool water, and wrung it out. He debated making tea, but Caine couldn't drink it if he was asleep, anyways.

Once he made it back into the fort, his eyes widened. Caine was gone. The pop-up window was still open, thankfully, but the ringmaster was no where to be found. Kinger's heartbeat sped up, and he swore he could hear it echoing throughout the fort. Logically, Caine literally couldn't have gone anywhere harmful, but logic wasn't exactly working in anyone's favor right now. If logic was applied to this situation, Caine would have been automatically updating every two weeks, shut down for an hour every three days, and be working fine. Kinger had no idea how to figure out why that hadn't been working, especially if he couldn't see the code. 

He had to stop himself from audibly groaning. His thoughts were getting too scrambled. He couldn't juggle three trains of thought at once. He could barely manage one on a good day. Managing worrying about his boyfriend, searching his damaged mind for coding knowledge, and remembering sickness remedies was stressing him out.

Okay. Just one. Worry about boyfriend. Easy enough. 

It took him a minute, but he eventually realized Caine would probably be charging in his room. Everytime he watched Caine charge, he was always doing something instead of laying down and resting like he was supposed to. That was probably why he hadn't been updating. He was never fully powered off, and his updates couldn’t start if he was online.

He cracked open the door to the office, and there he was. The ringmaster, laying down on his little couch, plugged into a wall. Kinger had no idea why the charging chord was necessary, it wouldn't effect Caine's power at all while he was resetting/charging, but the ringleader was usually doing too much anyways. 

Kinger sighed in relief. He was panting now, after running across practically the entire circus. He sat the cloth down on Caine's desk, and sat on the edge of the couch. The ringleader was still definitely hot, but not so much that it was radiating off of him anymore. Still, Kinger put the cloth on Caine's forehead. He glanced around, looking for any sort of blanket, but didn't find one. Of course.

He adjusted his and Caine's position, so Caine's head was on his lap. He ran a hand over Caine's top row of teeth, just feeling his fingers glide along the solid surface. He sighed again. This was going to be a long three days.