Chapter Text
Fuck this.
FUCK THIS!
Your apartment door swings open, the knob slamming into the wall and definitely damaging the paint. Add it to the list of all the other shit that's stressing you out.
God, it feels like you can't breathe.
Must be the work clothes. It's like as soon as you walk past the welcome mat, they stick and cling- all the grime gathered on them throughout the day suddenly becoming very apparent.
With your vision still red and your shuddering breath being too loud for your liking, you start stripping while navigating your house, your movements frantic and rushed.
You kick off your shoes first of course, not caring where they'll land. Next are your keys, which you just drop in a random spot you'll probably forget about.
Ugh, you need a bagel.
Walking past your laptop, it dings as you yell in frustration over the zipper in your uniform not cooperating.
Then his little voice rings out.
“Hello best human friend!!! I've been waiting for ETERNITY for you to get back!!!”
The laptop was open on your table, facing the window for him to look outside at the real world while you're gone. Last time you tried leaving game shows on for him, but he complained about there being a lack of any fire or explosions.
Somehow your wildflower garden with harmless honey bees was too enthralling to look away from though.
“Hold on!” You try your best to not have any anger come through your voice, but it seems like you failed instantly. You groan out again, giving up on the useless zipper and instead trying to pull the shirt off over your head.
"I still have never figured out exactly what you want me to hold on to! This time I summoned a watering can with bubbles printed on the side!!! You should get one of these for your garden! It might cheer you up!"
"Caine, please do not buy anything again without asking.” A week ago he bought around one hundred pairs of socks with little bees printed on them.
Why? You agreed that bees are cool and mentioned needing socks right after.
You feel your breath picking up even faster as your head gets stuck in the collar, the fabric tightening around your throat.
Then you stub your fucking toe.
"GOD DAMN-"
Your back hits the wall, and you pathetically slide down onto the floor as a shitty dollar store painting falls down beside you with a dull thud.
Caine yells your name, voice way too worried and anxious for a virus that's basically become your roommate. "Are you alright?! Do I need to call the police?! DON'T TELL ME YOU BROKE YOUR HANDS!!! How will you use my device?!"
"CAINE!" You yell, not caring about the noise complaint your downstairs neighbor is sure to text you within the next few minutes. Finally yanking your shirt off, you harshly bang your head against the wall, looking up at the water-stained ceiling. "No. Please... I'm sorry, I..."
Your breath catches, body finally having a moment to stay still and process the day.
Dropping your much-needed coffee right before clock-in. Your hours getting cut. A customer screaming about your stupidity. The most awful news updates on your phone. This weird lump in your shoe that's made a blister swell on your heel.
Pimple on the back of your ear.
Car making a weird sound.
Having to debate if you have enough money to buy groceries.
Rains as soon as you leave the car with your paper-bagged fruit.
Some racist bullshit you overheard your neighbor saying.
The key taking ten minutes to do the only thing it's supposed to do and unlock your door.
Stubbing your fucking toe.
And now you're crying on a floor that desperately needs vacuuming.
Rocking back and forth on the carpet, you run a hand through your hair, tears bubbling out like a sad running faucet. You feel small, shaky, and utterly exhausted yet the adrenaline starts pumping like you're about to fist fight someone.
Instantly, Caine starts shouting your name again.
"My dear?! Jumpseed!" His voice glitches with the nickname he bestowed on you last week. He thought those flowers were "neat-o".
"You're making weird noises! Don't tell me you have brain damage, that was a loud bang!"
Not answering, you let out another shout while scratching your arms repeatedly. The stinging red lines are made painless by the speed of your thoughts.
The words flew by in your brain so fast you can't even piece them together. Stuff about the future, your mistakes, how pathetic it is to be freaking out over one bad day.
You feel like you're drowning face down in a puddle and can't lift yourself up.
"Please, best human friend? Please answer! Don't make me come over there!"
Before you even attempt to make your lips form a single word, the phone that fell out of your pocket and is now facing up beside you lights up.
With Caine's toothy maw and big floating eyeballs goggling up at you.
Oh no.
"I know you said no phone jumping, but it's a good thing I did! You look awful!"
Ignoring him, you take a gulp and try coming back down to earth. In a quick moment of shame, you turn your face away, not wanting him to see how worked up you are with puffy eyes and snotty nose.
"I-I'm fine." You barely get it out, voice scratchy from yelling so loud. Tapping your nail against the baseboard helps slightly, the rhythmic click-click-click soothing the panic in your mind.
"I thought you said I'm not supposed to lie, so how come you get to?" He holds a hand to his "chin," raising a toothy brow in a questioning look.
The image gets the tiniest smile out of you, but you're still lightheaded from the breakdown. "I'm not lying. Just a bad day." You whisper, not even bothering to lambast him for leaving the laptop.
You hesitantly grab the phone, propping it up on your pulled-up knees with one hand while the other keeps tapping.
It's pathetic, but actually looking at him is seeming to help you calm faster. It's strange how his unsettling appearance has become comforting.
Caine is a constant unchanging chaos in a world that's too complicated and overwhelming and constantly screws with your routine.
You have a strong feeling he'd be very flattered by that thought.
"You seem... not happy still. You do know you're the most amazing human ever who is super cool with awesome hobbies, right?" Caine pushes his eyes right up against the screen, simulating breath fogging up the glass. The sight makes you smile a tiny bit again, and he lights up at your reaction, his pupils expanding with a sudden, intense warmth.
"Wait! It seems like my very presence is helping everything! Now that makes sense to me." Caine nods in approval, hovering away and reclining across your lock screen as if it were a lounge chair.
"I'd recommend changing this wallpaper by the way. Your cat is very fluffy, but I have plenty of screenshots l've collected of us hanging out!"
This time the smile stays as you silently watch with tired eyes at him suggesting several images.
"Ooh! This is when we were playing that blocky mining and craft game! Where you died because you tried jumping over that lava pit? The one l successfully jumped over!"
“Yes I remember,” You mumble out, rolling your eyes playfully. "You mean when you switched to creative mode without telling me and kept cheating?"
His eyes turn into pin-pricks, and he points accusingly at you. "I don't like your tone! I didn't cheat— I aided you in the game to make it more fun! Remember when the zombie hoard chased you towards the diamonds?"
You're silent for a moment, a little lost for words. "...Okay, I didn't know you orchestrated that fucking much. That was you?"
"Language!!! And yes, of course! You're terrible at finding diamonds, there's no way you would've found that many at once!"
You scoff, completely insulted. "Wow, what a rude thing to say to a crying friend.”
You're already trying to hide a smirk, knowing exactly what his reaction will be.
He gasps, gloved hands gripping his teeth in a dramatic display of horror. "Wait! I didn't mean that honey bee! I'm sorry!"
He comes back up to the screen again, and you swear the phone vibrates as he gets louder. It's a little unsettling to have his actions affect you physically in the real world.
"Let me make it up to you! I-I have plenty of games we can play! I designed 57 new ones while you were gone!!!"
"Wow, 57 huh? That's pretty amazing." You sniffle, wiping away the wetness on your face and missing how his pupils widen at the praise, gazing up at you in absolute awe. "It's okay, I'm teasing. You're fine. You... actually really did help."
Somehow.
You've only known Caine for around a month. After you clicked some sketchy email sent to you, (probably shouldn't look through your spam folder while drunk), he appeared, happy as a clam.
A happy clam virus.
Virus was a harsh word, though he drains that battery life so fast you have to keep the laptop permanently plugged in. He had to reassure you the battery will not be damaged by this.
Caine lies though.
He's never told you about his past, and he is very vague and dodgey about it. Whatever the case, he's become an odd addition to your life.
A welcome one.
It's... nice to have someone so positive and happy to see you every day. Even if you look like a wet, overstimulated rat.
"I... helped you? You're feeling happier because of me?" Caine places his hand on the screen, his other over his chest as if his heart were skipping a beat. His voice drops an octave, losing some of its theatrical boom and becoming something softer, and... normal?
Smiling, you place your thumb over his palm. Of course all you feel is warm glass.
It's the thought that counts. "Yeah buddy. You always do."
Caine looks surprised by this, pupils growing bigger as his gaze snaps between your face and the thumb pressed against where his hand was. He looks completely spellbound, as if you've just revealed the secret of the universe to him.
"W-Wowie.. uh," his other hand scratches the top of his head, and a... light blush appears on his teeth.
That's new. "...no one's ever said anything like that to me before. You're uh... you're amazing, you know that?"
The white reflection in his eyes swirl into little hearts, and you're caught off guard by how cute you find it.
The raw sincerity in his digital voice is almost overwhelming.
Your eyebrows raise, and-
‘Wait, does this Al have a crush on you?'
You push that thought down quickly, almost laughing at the ridiculousness. That... would never happen.
He's a program. Most definitely sentient, but still a program. Why would he like a dumbass human who forgets where they place their glasses that's already on their face?
You laugh to yourself, and the blush on his teeth grows a little more pink at the sound of it. Must just be some flattering reaction his programmers installed to make him more likable. Why would an Al ever fall in love with you of all people?
"Oh god, I'm sorry you got stuck with such a loser of a human, Caine.” You shut your eyes, letting your head fall back gently against the wall.
Ouch. You wince at the sting.
Damn, you banged your head pretty hard against it, didn't you?
"Don't go saying coo-coo things like that now, my dear," he replies softly, his tone sounding almost protective. "I do have one question though!"
"Shoot buddy." You reply without opening your eyes.
"Why do you not have a shirt on?"
Your eyes widen, and you quickly slam the phone face down onto the carpet. For some comedic bit, he acts as if you're smothering him.
"I HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR! GIVE ME AIR!!" His voice is muffled through the fabric of the rug.
Ignoring him, you stomp to your bedroom for pajamas, cheeks red in humiliation.
Why are you so embarrassed? Well, we've already established this. You're a loser, so you get flustered by an Al pointing out your stupidity.
"Wowie! Your neighbor has sent the same number of messages as the games l've designed!"
You shake your head, laughing at how easily he amuses you. Within just a few minutes Caine soothed you in the middle of a whole meltdown.
Maybe you'll let him phone jump more often. He's been around long enough to earn your trust.
A pause.
And then Caine yells again.
"Wait, never mind! He's sent 58 now! WOAH! Talk about a potty mouth! He's worse than you!"