Chapter Text
Hope.
Pomni knew from the very beginning that the only way people survived in the circus was through even the faintest sliver of hope they could hold onto. Beneath the adventures meant to distract, behind the closed doors of every member, lying in bed, there was a quiet faith that it could work out, that something would happen one day, and they just needed to keep going, even a day at a time, to reach that day.
And she had seen what the lack of that did to someone. Twice now.
Kaufmo’s room still sat down the hall, empty and untouched. Scribbled walls. Desperate theories, countless failed attempts to make this digital world make sense as it refused to make sense back. Pomni never met him, but she had met the shape he left behind. The guilt in others' faces, the missing presence they had been so familiar with seeing. The way conversations seemed to hesitate whenever his name surfaced.
Abstraction had not come in a single moment. The Abstraction had only been the final symptom.
And now, she was looking at the same danger, that same final symptom of something that has been a long time coming.
Tracking the odd, black mass was easy enough as it lurched down the residential hallway. The thing moved without purpose, yet somehow driven all the same. Frantic colors and legs jagged and angry, passing every door easily as eyes darted wildly in every direction. Its body shifted constantly, never settling into a shape she could keep her eyes on. The sound is somehow worse– every heavy impact echoed through the corridor as the entity slammed into doors and walls alike. The picture frames rattled, and the small decor by the walls vibrated towards the edge. The entire hallway seemed to recoil from his presence.
Pomni's hand tightens around the gun. No matter how many eyes darted, no matter how twisted and monstrous he had formed into, she regonized ot. Recognized him.
In this hallway, he had been the one to show her how to wield this gun. Rolling his eyes, making fun of her, making her lose common sense for the sake of adventure. Being irritating, being fun– being alive.
Now he was this… the physical form of the open wound he always was inside.
The gun in her hand felt steady, thanks to him.
Now she would put it to better use.
She attempted to take a deep breath, feeling it in her digital body as she stepped out of the safety of being out of sight and immediately stood at the entrance to the familiar hall. The echoes of his unseemly rage reached her more clearly, especially as those frantic eyes finally caught onto her colorful get-up. Her body buzzed with adrenaline, and the moment the thumping was directed at her, a thick onyx void raced towards her, her arm lifted instantly, and so did her finger to the trigger.
She could only hope this worked.
Bullets blow from the gun, splattering the glass into a million pieces, and then another bullet, and another, tracking each offending lightbulb above the spiraling creature heading her way, blowing out every single light in the hallway. They descended into darkness immediately, the huge entity avoiding every single shot, quicker and quicker, the faster she shot out every light.
Until there was nothing. An abyss of darkness, one she was the victim of.
Then, the mass in the abyss revealed itself.
And she looked into the eyes of the abstraction, the visage of pain.
Eyes, searching and searching, always looking. A hypnotical mix of every color she had missed over the span of what felt like weeks. Jagged black shards of the ever-moving figure, smoothing just slightly as it stooped down to her face. Every vibrant wave of color hits her, almost hauntingly beautiful.
It's just like him, and she isn't sure how or why.
But before she can talk herself out of it, before she can freeze, she orders every shred of composure left in her small body, and she throws herself into the abyss.
Pomni has never done shrooms, but she is pretty sure this counts.
Colors flash and disappear, drowning her in a kaleidoscope and a vision of every hue and shape she could have ever imagined, her eyes failing to collect every searing visage, especially as her body is consumed and stretched by the pull of an internal collapse. Dizzing, like a splash of hot water after an icy dip.
Was this dying? Was she going to be stuck in this ever-expanding cosmos? She can't feel anything, nothing but her body pulled and vibrating with pure energy, light that blinds striking her retinas.
It spins and spins, until her vision no longer feeds on the rapid pigment changes, and instead, refocuses once her feet plant on something firm and gravity seems to rest her body. It is dark, or at least the floor below her feet is, and the walls as she attempts to pick up her head. What meets her resetting eyes is strange.
She isn't sure what she was expecting. A small hallway, as if it belonged in a home, with five doors evenly spaced along each wall, some bearing crudely made door signs resembling the one hanging on his real door. It’s quiet, but the air feels dense, like a heaviness exists she cannot see.
Pomni walks to the first one, the pink ripples beneath her feet softly radiating as she quietly and curiously opens the dark pink door to what feels like a trip.
Jax stands with a version of herself, eyes almost emotionless and hollow, standing in the dorm hallway as they gaze at a certain abstracted ragdoll's door. He looks void, something she isn't entirely unfamiliar with.
"Jax?" Her other self asks, staring up at him. "I just want you to know that if you need anything, or if you need to talk to anybody, I am here for you."
Vision Jax remains unaffected, staring back at the jester.
"I know you need it." She whispers back, "And I'm the only person who can help you."
The real Pomni feels a pit growing in her code.
"You need me. I can fix you!"
Pomni watches as her other alternate self instantly meets the floor, Jax's gloved hands wrapped around her throat and towering over her with no mercy, no care, and no way out. She suffocates, not only by his grip, but with his stare, so consuming and yet empty.
He releases her only when he sees fit, after her eyes have rolled back and her skin is an ugly purple, standing with no concern. She crawls away, petrified, gasping and clawing for distance.
"What?" Jax says, in a tone she knows, mocking and insulting. "We can't die from oxygen deprivation, remember?"
Hypnothetical Pomni does not rebut. Jax doesn't stop her from running away.
But he quickly stops the real Pomni from watching any further, whipping his head to just put just enough fear in her, and the door slams shut on its own.
The hall remains empty, except for the deep breaths Pomni forces in and out. The Jax she had seen only once, so unstable and cruel, just for the sake of pushing someone away, to make someone regret ever trying to help. Hurting someone to make them disbelieve.
Pomni knew better.
She quickly moves away from the door, onto the next one beside it, which she can only hope is better.
It isn't by much. At least there is no horror movie moves inside.. no. Just preparing for Zooble's funeral in a maid outfit, with more than a slight nudge to doing something R-Rated to an unsure Gangle.. something maybe just as bad as the last one, she rethinks as she closes the door.
At least there is some kind of theme going? It is borderline painful to interact with, in more ways than one.
Except, of course, for the chained-up door on the other side of the hallway that remains silent and unoffensive, which she attempts to open to no avail, which is unsurprising. Whatever lies inside is not something Jax wishes to uncover.
She accepts that defeat and turns around, wondering who would be next on Jax's chopping block.
Pomni doesn't try to understand the hijinks of whatever cartoon version of Jax she meets next door, Wylie Coyote-ing a heartbroken Zooble off a cliff all the while talking to an imaginary audience. The bit is over faster than the last two, and she doesn't get a chance to see episode two before it slams the door in her face.
Familiar to the Jax, wielding a pistol, denying reality. She can see exactly what these personas are, every coping mechanism, every defense. Pomni's chest throbs.
It only leaves the door at the end.
She walks into a joke waiting to be told.
Four different Jaxs all in the room, sharing the same face yet not at all alike. A petrified Jax plays a tune on the piano, while the last three, Maid Jax, Stoic Jax, and the Bugs-Bunny wannabe are sitting playing cards in the corner.
"How the hell did you get in here?" Maid Jax sneers, "We have a strict no-girls policy."
Hollow, pupils-blown Jax eyes him with a thin veil of disgust. "Why are you wearing that? I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that–"
"Don't forget about me! I can play the piano!" Friendly Jax says excitedly, pointing at the keys.
"Y'know, if you have to say you can play the piano, it makes it seem like you can't actually play." Maid Jax comments.
"Yeah! Just shut up and play!" Hollow Jax bursts into his agitation, chucking a bottle of static at the wall by him, quickly putting Friendly Jax in his place and back into the tune.
"Where is the real Jax?" Pomni asks.
"You're not gonna get anywhere asking questions like that." Cartoony Jax replies, "Now scram! You're messing up our card game."
Pomni quickly decides she's had enough of that dialogue option. She ignores his demand, walking to the back of the room where another door is located, this one adorned with the most recognizable door sign. It doesn't budge when she attempts to open it.
"Do any of you have a key to this door?"
"Nope," Maid Jax popped, "And even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you. You women need to quit crying all the time–"
Pomni could only tolerate Jax's terrible personas for so long before she had enough, chucking the broken bottle right into the vision of maid Jax. It passed right through him, the persona disappearing immediately.
"Wow! I hope that doesn't also happen to me–" Cartoon Jax disappears just as easily into nothing, along with stoic Jax. The table remains empty, cards abandoned on the surface.
She is left in the quiet room, with nobody but the friendly Jax. His eyebrows furrowed and pupils tiny as his ankle shackles clack together, imprisoned in the performance. His soft hand extends, with a glittering offering. The golden key she needed, and an assuring nod before he too becomes nothing.
And then it becomes her and the space between the door.
The key slides in, and the door slowly pops open with no resistance, before stealing her mind for what story she would stumble into now.
Instead, she was met with… flashes. Memories were decorated somewhere between her eyes and mind, every moment she was never supposed to be privy to. Each flashback, each glimpse of his life before, the chaotic moments as he joined, the terrifying change in environment, the first assurance, the first traditions, the moments when laughter and even… touch came freely.
With her.
Pomni could hardly stop taking in every detail, every vulnerable moment, and even more vulnerable words that strewed from Jax's mouth. Words she was unsure she would ever hear from him. A peaceful, green room, a gentle hand and even gentler eyes, and the greatest guarantee of trust.
Then, the horrific downfall. The denial, the self-blame, the gaslighting. The lies. Pushing her away, over and over and over again until there was nothing but explosive anger and worse.. emptiness. Then.. nothing of her at all. And nothing of him.
Every new flash, every layer peeled back, all the things she wished she knew inside, being shown in a light that she can't deny; through Jax's own eyes. Until she arrived, until he pushed her away all the same way he pushed her away.
Until she was standing on the other side of the once-locked door.
And it was dark.
The inky darkness surrounded her with a haze unlike the barren hallway. There was only one centre, one thing illuming the void.. a lampost, glowing with a misty dark pink.
And there he was, beneath the only beacon.
She doesn't know what to say.
"I didn't know you could play the piano." She says into the void around them.
Jax stands quietly, the glow highlighting his ears and still shoulders.
"…I only know like two songs."
For some reason, the sound of his voice, hinting at a timidness he feels, makes her swallow. Anger doesn't arise; it doesn't simmer beneath her skin.
All that sits is determination… and distress. Her small feet pick themselves up, their new heading toward the glowing lampost, every new step closer, another surge that echoes.
Jax flinches, his teeth gritting. "Why are you here." He asks, nothing like a question.
She sees it. Her nightmare, the first of many nightmares, falling into the cellar– yet Jax is in her place with nobody to rescue him, nobody's hand reaching. It flashes so quickly in her mind, but the philosophy remains the same as it always has been.
She pauses, waiting.
"You know everything now, so why are you here?" It comes out of his throat as frustration. "Just to rub every mistake I've ever made in my face?"
No. Pomni knows more.
She continues, with every ripple beneath her moving feet, closer and closer to him; his tone grows more restless, more angry, more anguished.
"I am a terrible person," He stutters on his breath, "Is that what you want me to say?"
She approaches, her eyes glued to the back of his body, his quivering hands, his hung-low head. Her heart throbs harder, their shared sorrow ever growing. "I already know I am– so why does anybody still care about me?"
Pomni feels her own throat thicken as she listens, her feet pattering closer and closer, as Jax almost seems to sink deeper.
"You're not supposed to care."
Closer. Faster. Determination and dread mix into a kind of desperation she feeds with every pace closer. She can't let him go like this, can't make him stand on his own anymore.
"You're not supposed to miss me–you're not supposed to love me!" The grief bleeds into his voice; she can hear the clenched teeth, the tears pattering on the ground by his feet. "This isn't how this is supposed to go." He sniffles.
Faster, faster.
"Please... leave me alone!" He begs, but it fails.
Jax alone, with no one to hold onto, nobody to help him from the fate he has accepted.
"You're making this so much harder."
She can't leave him like this, can't let him feel like nothing any longer. Her hand reaches out into that cellar pit, so close, nearing, almost–
She collides with his body, arms winding around his torso without any hesitation, without any restraint. His tears fall to the void, radiating out.
"You're making this.. so much harder." He weeps, voice surrendering to the emotions engulfing them. Regret, the fear. Pomni's arms wind tighter, tugging him closer. Right where he should be. Her vision clouds instantly, hot tears falling from her face with every whimper.
"You should have just talked to me, man."
He sniffles. "It's too late," he wavers, yet certain. "I did this to myself... there's no coming back from this."
"Then.." She looks up, hoping, desperately wishing. "Talk to me now."
Pomni can feel his body shift out of her grasp, and for just a moment, catches his face. Regretful, weeping, and nothing she has seen before. Just a glimpse, before his knees buckle and his arms wrap around her as he kneels, holding her face into his chest as she immediately embraces him with every ounce of strength she can muster in her little arms.
"I hate you." He says, yet with no bite. "You know that? You always have to go and complicate things."
A weak laugh escapes her despite herself, dissolving into a wet hiccup as tears continue to spill freely down her face. They soak into the soft velvet of his overalls, disappearing into the fibers she never got to touch. He is warm still, more than she expects, and for a moment she simply buries herself there, listening to the uneven rhythm of his breathing.
"It's what I do."
For the briefest second, his arms loosen around her and her heart lurches. Then, his grip returns with a trembling desperation that nearly steals her breath. She feels it in the shaking hold where his hands clutch at her back. In the way his fingers bunch the fabric of her suit. Pulling her impossibly closer, as if afraid she might disappear if he lets her drift even an inch away.
Holding onto her like she is the only sliver of hope he has left.
"I don't wanna go."
The words are small; his voice vibrates, interlaced with something like realization and regret, breaking apart after a short breath. The fear inside him seems to move through his whole body, flowing from his chest into every limb wound around her. His shoulders tense, his arms lock around her, his heartbeat pounds frantically under her ear, rapid and uneven. She squeezes him hard instinctively.
Pomni watches his chest rise and fall, stuttering only to become more and more shallow, feeling the tears drip onto her shoulder as his breathing becomes ragged, panicked, scared. She refuses to let him go, refuses to let up even a little bit.
"Stay with me!" She attempts to calm him, but his sobbing and his hyperventilating only come faster than the last, until he is on the brink of collapsing entirely. She thinks it's her imagination, the black floor beneath their knees shivering with pink rings that strike the surface.
Then a strange heat blooms between them, seeping through layers of clothing and into her own skin. The darkness around the edges of his body began to fracture, hairline cracks of pure light threading through the void. The entire world seems to pulse with every frenzied beat of Jax's heart.
Stay with me, stay with me. The thought echoes louder than the collapsing world around them.
Pomni screws her eyes shut as brilliance pours through the once thin hairline cracks of his body, bursting violently with pink, gold, and white. It's blinding, burning her hands so firm on his changing form, pressure that wishes to pull her and yet, push her out. The world groans under the pressure, the light glare colliding with the void in blinding waves that seem to tear through the empty landscape itself.
Jax remains locked around her. Holding on. She can't breathe, can't think anything but to hold on back, to be nowhere but forever in this embrace as he falls apart, dissolving everything in him and around him.
Everything else disappears, the heat boiling the fiber of her existence.
She won’t leave.
And then, something catches her.
She can barely feel it when something hooks onto her and, with force, yanks her away from the ball of light, the entity Jax. Before she can react, call out his name, she is ripped backward with enough force to tear her from the Abstraction. Pomni is flung through the air until whatever grabs her brings her close enough to have her land. Her body slides to a stop; the vague feeling of the plush carpet beneath her stings at her hot skin.
The world comes back in fragments, patches of color, pieces of the ceiling far above, shifting shadows over her face. Her body feels wrong, unstable. Every few seconds she swears she can see parts of herself flicker in and out of existence at the edges of her vision, static disforming blocks of her body, crawling across her gloves and vanishing just as quickly.
The carpet is soft and cooler than her skin. Above her, a voice rings.
"Oh, you weren't gonna try and take care of him all by yourself, were you?"
Kinger. The familiar voice drifts through the ringing in her eardrums. Pomni tried to blink away the flashes of light plaguing her sight, forcing her to refocus to a limited success. Shapes slowly sharpen into faces she loves.
"I'm glad we weren't too late." Ragatha leans over nearby, solace inscribed onto her stitched features. The sight alone might make her cry.
"Like you guys keep saying," Zooble says beside Kinger, with a twinge of pride in their voice, "We're all in this together."
Pomni lets out a shaky laugh, the breath leaving her lungs, one she didn't know she was holding in. They are here, and they are okay.
Fatigue seeps into her legs, sinking into every limp. Her arms feel heavy, her feet numb, and even smiling hurts.
Her head turns to the right, looking back down the dim corridor. Glass is littered on the carpet and the lingering aftermath of whatever happened while she was inside. It has a faint smell of burnt fabric and gunpowder, smoke drifting lazily through the air, only illuminated by the weak shafts of light that seep in from the main tent room into the abyss.
The abyss where the abstraction was supposed to be. The hall remains quiet, still, and silent.
Pomni isn't sure why her eyes refuse to look away. Something twists painfully inside her chest. Her eyes burn. Surely, any moment, the roar of his abstracted being will billow out, come to be dealt with once and for all.
Surely.
After everything she had just seen, the doors, memories, that impossible light; her brain was running overtime, running through the ground, desperate to make it make sense.
The smoke swirls, not up like how it had.. but out. Parting.
And there–
A trace of purple.
Pomni's lungs lose her breath, stolen right out of her. Her heart lurches so violently it strains her.
No.. it wasn't true. The smoke rolls, every wave she catalogs needily, eyes shining as the others take notice. She can hear them ask her, to lend a hand to stand, but nothing hits her.
She needs to see, she must know and she begs internally she isn't mistaken.
The murky, white clouds shift.. and she can see it.
Purple.
She pushes herself up onto one trembling elbow with everything she has left, ignoring the weakness flooding her aching body. Her eyes refuse to shut for even a second.
Please, please. The thought arrives instantly. Please?
And as if her plea was heard, the white haze thins– and a figure stumbles forward.
Pink overalls and lavender skin, yellow gloves and long ears.
Pomni can't breathe. Not the abstraction, not another memory or persona or imagination.
Jax.
His steps are unbalanced and clumsy; he nearly trips over himself as he emerges from the cloud, one hand gripping his face as though the world itself is distressing. His breathing looks sickly, labored; every movement forward is a stumbling mess, but it appears to take so much work.
His right eye cracks open, the other hidden by his large palm, and he lifts his head just enough. His gaze, shaky and practically buzzing, finds her immediately, lying on the floor and ignoring the stares of those huddled around her.
Pomni sees it, the faint way his eye dilates, taking her in almost in relief.
His knees buckle and meet the carpet. The impact reverberates through the hallway as his unconscious body collapses onto the carpet.
"Jax!" Pomni thinks she’s the one who shouts for him, but she isn't too sure as the world erupts.
Voices rise above her; she can feel the thumping of feet, of voices shouting and questioning from every direction. Maybe someone's hands are under her body, lifting her. Maybe there is a soft cry that radiates from above. It is like she's catatonic, eyes staring blankly up towards the bright circus lights, wherever they take her.
The last thing she feels is hope, relief so overwhelming her chest explodes with warmth comparable to the sun, spreading and taking every sense.
Until the darkness finally claims her too.