Chapter Text
Caine wasn’t above groveling. He’d only been doing it for almost twenty-one years- why stop now?
Yes, maybe he did throw a bit of a tantrum and tortured his precious humans a little bit, but that was only because they’d started it! Not to mention they’d been so ungrateful for everything he’d done for them, too!
He didn’t have to make them adventures to keep their minds stimulated every day for seven-thousand-sixty-nine days since the first human’s arrival! He didn’t have to give them their own rooms, decorate them accordingly, or give them a space to lounge at if they didn’t want to be in said rooms for whatever reason. He could have made their home strictly utilitarian and waited until they begged him for entertainment! He also didn’t have to allow them the stability of a sleep schedule or a king-sized buffet-style meal after every adventure that was pleasing to both the eyes and the digital senses.
His literal only purpose was to keep the humans stimulated just enough to not abstract.
Based on his calculations, the rate of abstractions are only marginally better with all of Caine’s work to try and keep them happy- so what was the point?
Apparently, all he needed to do was just give up everything that he was to finally appeal to them better after literally being fished out of the garbage.
It didn’t matter how much it pained him to retain his god-like form. After some much-needed apologies (from Caine only- he was sure the humans’ apologies were coming any day now), the others still refused to speak with him. The only real reactions he got was when he brought this beastly projection out, so he simply kept it in place since.
It didn’t matter how disgusted he was at having to crawl around on all eight like a lopsided spider, nor did he care for how much it hurt that the humans still saw him as nothing more than a threat. There was just only so much he could do to shrink himself to an acceptable size while in this state- leaving him about two and a half Kingers tall if he lifted himself upright.
As it was, Caine continues to keep himself as low to the ground as he possibly can without tripping over himself. His underside was filthy with digital dust and debris as he skittered along- unable to snap himself clean- but it was worth it for the small moments of connection with the humans whenever they would come to him for one thing or another.
Mostly, Caine just kept to himself.
Ordered to stay out of sight until they wanted him, Caine was forced to obey as he roamed the circus doing repairs as he saw fit. It was the only thing he was really capable of since the humans all voted on Kinger stripping the ringmaster of his titles and abilities until he was nothing more than a glorified repair program that was only there to keep the structural integrity stable.
You can see the void through the floor? Patched and sturdy. Virus? Destroyed. Tear in the fabric of the tent? Stitched up with care. Clipping objects? Separated and kept well away from each other.
They only needed him because he was the circus. Without him, there was no circus, and if there was no circus, the only world they knew crumbled to nothing and threw them into the void to suffer a torture worse than any Caine could ever come up with.
But did they really have to strip his teleporting away? Even just for himself? It would make repairs so much easier! Not to mention faster, too.
Whatever. No point in arguing- the humans would never concede.
Kinger was the only one that would have anything to do with Caine for a while. It started with just dropping off reports in front of the stage curtains where Caine had made his new home behind them to comply with their demand. It was also… a bit nice being able to shut down and rest for the first time since the very first human arrived.
Once the bug reports were turned in and Caine judged Kinger to be far enough away, a large white gloved hand would reach through those thick red velvet curtains to scoop them up for Caine to read through. Once morning came, Caine would get up before the humans and get to work.
After a while, Kinger started to stick around longer and longer, startling Caine each time whenever he would reach out to grab the reports to find a glimpse of the man standing there. A flash of purple robe, a sliver of tan wood-. Once- and Caine’s core begged for it to be true- Caine had thought he’d caught Kinger smiling.
It was small, and a bit sad, sure- but it was a smile nonetheless, and Caine’s core sang with melancholic jubilation every time the image popped up in Caine’s mind.
And then came the day when Kinger refused to leave.
Caine had quickly become increasingly frustrated as the man conjures a few pillows into the shape of a chair and sits down in front of Caine’s curtains. Didn’t he know the rules? Didn’t he understand? Did he not care?
The answer to all of that was apparently “no” as Kinger opened his nonexistent mouth and spoke to Caine for the first time in far too long.
“You can come out, Caine; I won’t be bothered.” Kinger offers softly, waiting patiently with his hands folded in his lap and a gentle smile held in those clear blue eyes.
The brilliant lights and garish colors of the circus hadn’t returned to their full delightful brightness yet, and Caine highly doubted they ever would again. As it was, Kinger was more lucid than ever- walking around with a mere pair of uneven sunglasses to combat the very minimal amount of light left to have a chance at bothering the programmer.
Caine crept through those curtains as if he were a particularly skittish feral animal- afraid that Kinger would suddenly change his mind and make Caine pay for it by sending him back to the recycling bin they’d pulled him back from.
“That’s it,” Kinger soothes, slowly rising with a hand outstretched as Caine stalks across as low as possible- his extra hands pushing the heavy curtain aside to allow him through, “come on out…” the man coos.
Caine grumbles under his breath. It wasn’t his fault he had to avoid the humans. If he’d had his way, Caine would never leave their sides for longer than it took to make sure they wouldn’t accidentally fall through the floor. Did Kinger just forget?!
Probably… The man had a long history of doing just that.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long since anyone has been by to visit you; myself included… I thought by now one of the others would have changed their minds and used their special passcodes to interact with you while I’ve been busy.” Kinger sighs. A million questions immediately pile up int Caine’s mind.
Special passcodes? The humans have special passcodes? To what? Kinger said they were to me, but the humans know they can come see me anytime they want! Right? No, of course they do! They’re the ones that made it so that I can’t come to them. Not the other way around!
…
Right?
Caine keeps his metaphorical mouth shut.
“Oh, yeah!” Kinger gasps, smacking a hand against his head as if he’d just remembered something, “the passcodes! I bet that might make you feel a bit better right now, huh?” The man chuckles sheepishly.
“Alrighty then; are you ready?” Kinger asks. With a deep, steadying breath, the chess piece claps his hands together. When they come apart, a bright, golden butterfly flutters its wings comfortably in his flattened palms.
“Butterfly!”
With Kinger’s exclamation, the butterfly lifts off, leaving a glowing trail of light as it bobs its way through the air to land on Caine’s upper incisor. The moment it lands, the butterfly disappears- along with all of Caine’s intense apprehension and anxiety from being around the human before him.
Caine lets out the biggest sigh of relief- teeth sliding shut as he sprawls across the stage. His head slides forward right into Kinger’s awaiting hand. A deep purr not unlike the sound of overlapping, overworking fans echoes from Caine’s chest. Kinger’s smile widens.
“It’s funny; I’ve missed your rambunctiousness around here,” Kinger sighs wistfully, “as much as there is to do and visit around the circus and the grounds, it’s not very fun without someone to do them with. Rather boring, if I do say so myself.” He shrugs.
“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling; being all alone all the time…” Kinger adds sadly. Caine whimpers in agreement, nuzzling further into Kinger’s palm while making sure he doesn’t accidentally knock the poor fellow over the edge.
“If you need anyone to talk to, you can always come to me in my pillow fort. Not sure how well you’ll fit now, but your head might just be able to get through the door.” Kinger offers. In response, Caine’s purr turns into a veritable turbine as a wash of joy, excitement, and relief floods through his systems at once.
It feels like a smack to the face when Kinger inevitably pulls away.
“I hope to see you around more, Caine. Don’t be a stranger!” Kinger calls over his shoulder, making his way back toward his pillow fort.
A sudden desperation takes hold in Caine’s core, but he shoves it down.
Caine scoops up the latest bug report to find five full pages- front and back- of issues that were littered through the entire circus. He didn’t have time to waste by spending the day lazing around in Kinger’s fort. Maybe tonight, when all was said and done, he’d ask Kinger if he could stay over- just this once.
For now, he had work to do.