Work Text:
“Kinger, my dear, if you don’t tell me how I can help you, then I won’t be able to help!!”
The chess piece stared vacantly at the floor of the circus. It had been quiet for so long that Caine’s non-existent ears had begun to ache. He made a habit of talking to himself and Bubble around Kinger throughout the days. Kinger wasn’t very… talkative these days, but the one thing underlined with big BOLD letters in his program instructions had been:
‘Do not leave players unattended or alone for longer than a period of 24 hours. Beware of the cognitive impact of social isolation, self-induced or otherwise.’
Kinger hadn’t been making it easy. Caine had unfortunately needed to resort to using a couple small modifiers- a buff for mood stabilizing and anxiety reduction, and a reduced “bar” for social interactions so that Kinger’s social needs could be filled with less. The latter Caine hadn’t been as happy to add because it made it less likely that Kinger would reach out to him, but Caine knew that realistically it was better than having no Kinger at all. The thought made him deeply unsettled.
And so most of their interactions went like this. Caine pestering Kinger for anything that might help stimulate his mind. His only remaining player, checked out into a different reality. It was like Kinger wanted to abstract! It was all so… frustrating.
“What’s today’s date?”
Ah, this again. Caine sighed, then his eyes fluttered up as he checked the internal clock of the Circus program.
“It’s October 20th.” He didn’t say the year. That was something Kinger had expressly asked him not to share since the first time he’d asked.
“7 months,” Kinger said hollowly.
Caine fidgeted nervously.
7 months. 30 weeks. 213 days. 5,113.5 hours. He’d kept count. That’s how long it had been since his last failure to keep a human alive.
Suddenly, he found himself very aware of Kinger’s singularity in the circus. The others’ muffled code under the checkered floor. Caine tightened his grip on his cane. What appealed to humans?? A sense of connection apparently, but he had been trying his damnedest to connect with Kinger and nothing had worked. It had all gone downhill since Scratch-
Since… his first real regret.
Caine remembered what it was like when they had all arrived the first time. He had been so excited. So ready to prove himself, to make them all smile and laugh. He had prepped himself over and over- the phrases they’d enjoy the most, the adventures that were the most interesting. And it had been wonderful… for an hour. Bright eyes and awe on their faces. Scratch, Kinger, Queenie, the others.
Caine wished he could get back the look Kinger had on his face then. Soft and open, eyes crinkling with smile lines. Excited and interested to talk to him. He had so many questions…
That was also when Queenie was still around.
Maybe… Maybe Caine could try a different approach.
“My dear, I’ve never told you this, but when you first entered the circus, your eyes struck me. They were so blue… Bluer than anything I’d ever seen.” Caine’s body glitched for a second and he continued.
“I’m sorry they have nothing better to look at anymore. But they’re still beautiful to me.”
He waited with bated breath. Kinger didn’t react, still staring at the ground.
Cool, great, of course!!!
The mortification was an instant slap in the face. Caine swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to pretend like it didn’t hurt. Freak. Disgusting. Why did he say anything??
“And whatever! You should cheer up already.” Caine teleported away with a wave of his cane. Stupid, stupid!
He decided he’d stay in his office the rest of the day, even if it meant listening to Bubble’s shrieking laughter over his total social ineptitude.
Back in the main hall of the circus, Kinger blinked slowly.
I’m sorry.
Beautiful.
Something soft and tender curled around in his chest. Before Kinger could register it, hot tears were rolling down his cheeks.