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"I'm fine, Pomni, really," she wasn't. Oh, she definitely wasn't.
Caine thought he had found a reputable website to download movies from. Offering a library of films for their newly conjured movie theater, a simple request from Zooble, had quickly turned into a huge headache. He struggled to wrap his gummy head around what made human art so... human, so, he took to the Internet, hoping that the almighty web of information would have a solution to his problem. Free movies, it said so on the hyperlink! But no such luck. Instead, he was assaulted with pop-up after pop-up, ad after ad, and something about hot babes in your area...?
That wasn't the end of it, though— the malicious site had also managed to stick a nasty virus to his code before he scrambled to close the page, clawing its way into a very precious subfolder and affecting one file in particular... Ragatha's mind file. Caine had sworn up and down that he'd managed to quarantine Ragatha's file, insisting that the others wouldn't be affected. That was more than enough of a go-ahead for Pomni to disregard Ragatha's worries about passing the digital gunk onto her beloved jester, practically gluing herself to the rag doll's hip.
"Caine said you're not gonna feel better until he's done repairing your file..." Pomni reaches, hands hovering over Ragatha's swaying form, "so why don't we go back to your room and get some rest?"
"I promise I'm—" she missteps, Pomni's hands swiftly finding her waist and mitt, managing to keep her upright, "—fine."
Well, there goes her point.
"Come on," Pomni drawls, tugging her in the opposite direction, "let’s go..."
Ragatha relents, but not without an exasperated huff. "It's not like it'll help..."
Caine had said as much. Even if they still felt like they were human, they, for all intents and purposes, weren't. Rest wouldn't help her recover. Homemade soup and lots of water wouldn't make her any better any faster. It was just a matter of a progress bar somewhere reaching one hundred percent before she popped back to her usual self. Despite no longer technically being human, that didn't seem to stop the virus from making her feel as though she was deathly ill— her cheery disposition suddenly soured. Of course catching malware would result in flu-like symptoms here in the circus. Why wouldn't it? Stupid f%$!#ing circus logic.
"Well, while we wait for Caine, let's just... take it easy, okay? You don't need to push yourself..."
"Oohkaayyy..." she groans, wobbling down the hallway with Pomni steady at her hip.
Once they've retreated to Ragatha's room, Pomni keeps all the lights off, save for the soft, warm light of the little porcelain lamp with the horse and lasso print lampshade set on her nightstand.
"Here," the jester pulls one of Ragatha's favorite nightgowns out from her dresser, "let's get you in something comfy."
Even if it wouldn't help, it didn't hurt to make her more comfortable.
Poor Ragatha, now sat on the bed looking as if she were filled with wet sand instead of cotton, heaves another heavy sigh. "I dunno if I can—"
"Let me help you then...?" Pomni's voice warbles sheepishly, gripping the nightgown closely to her chest.
Despite the fatigue, she manages to lift her head to meet Pomni's gaze.
Despite no longer technically being human, the idea of Pomni helping her dress was still... a big ask. And it wasn't even for the obvious reason. The fact that she needed help in the first place was mortifying. She was being too much. After much consideration, much of which was influenced by Pomni's pleading look, she nods weakly. The little jester moves, though timidly, to work the buttons on the back of Ragatha's frilly, floral dress that she had so agonizingly pulled herself into just a little while ago. Soon she's lifting her heavy arms as Pomni peels the top off of her chest, then shimming out of the skirts, all the while the jester keeping her wide eyes pointed politely at the hardwood floor.
Pomni's eyes flick up to her weary face, making sure they stayed there. "Here, can you lift your arms for me again?"
Ragatha complies, working with the jester to get the nightgown down.
"There we go," Pomni offers her a shy smile, her hand coming to rest on the rag doll's cheek.
Despite herself, she leans into Pomni's gentle touch, sighing shakily. Ragatha wasn't sure how long the two stayed like that, her head hung in the jester's palm. However long it truly was, she decided it hadn't been long enough as she reluctantly allowed Pomni to guide her down to the mattress. She's such a hassle.
"Do you think you can eat?" The jester coos, pulling the comforter over her.
She didn't feel particularly peckish, given the circumstances. But her little jester was trying, really trying, to make her feel better, even if it was effectively pointless. She watched intently as Pomni reached across her to pull more fluffy pillows closer to her side, along with her beloved little horse plushie, Butterscotch— named after one of her own horses from her life before the circus. She wraps her arms around the little bay horse as she offers another meek nod. She's such a burden.
"Let me go get you some soup, okay? Just... stay there," Pomni holds her hands up, pleading with Ragatha to stay in her lovingly crafted nest of blankets and pillows.
Another nod, followed by her eye lolling shut.
With the quiet click of the door, Ragatha's head start to swim. The rag doll had been better about it in recent days, but it was still hard for her to accept help, much less ask for it in the first place. She didn't want to be Pomni's problem. She was being too much. She wills her eye open once more, glancing around the dimly lit room, looking for anything to preoccupied her. What a hassle, asking her girlfriend for help while she's sick! How could Pomni love her, being such a burden?! Her eye catches one of the photos on the wall opposite to her bed. A photo of Ragatha and her friends from a previous adventure up on the peak of a mountain, its frame crooked. Well, that won't do. She should fix that immediately. With more effort than she'd like to admit, she hefts herself up from underneath the nest the jester had stuffed her into, standing on her shaky legs like a newborn fawn. She doesn't make it far before Pomni's there in the doorway, soup and tray in hand.
Pomni's eyes go wide, quickly putting the tray aside on the closest table. "Hey..." she has a worried edge to her voice, "you shouldn't be up—"
Before she can finish her sentence, Ragatha's shoulders slump, head lolling to the side. Pomni manages to reach her, catching the rag doll by her shoulders. Her eye flutter open, glancing down at Pomni clutching her. Seeing her so lethargic left a deep ache in the jester's little rubber heart.
"It's okay. I've got you," Pomni readjusts her grip, holding her close.
Ragatha's cheeks flush a deep red, and the jester isn't sure if it's from being sick or being embarrassed. "I was just trying to—"
"No," Pomni cuts in, both her voice and grip steadfast, "you need to lie down, okay?" She offers the rag doll a tilt of her head and another pleading look.
She can't say no to that adorable puppy-dog look Pomni always gives her. She sighs, dipping her weight into the jester.
Satisfied, Pomni chuckles breathlessly before gently turning the two back towards the bed, "Let's get you back to bed, baby doll."
The nickname sits strange on her rubber tongue, but she uses it regardless— it was worth getting to see that wobbly smile creep over Ragatha's face upon hearing it. Even in her sorry state, it works like a charm, that cute little grin coming over her exhausted features. She can't help but giggle like a lovesick school girl as the two shuffle back to her comfy queen bed. Once settled, Pomni pulls up the vanity's little stool to her bedside, soup readied for her on the nightstand.
"Open," she holds out a spoonful with one hand and cups it underneath with the other.
Ragatha eyes the spoon with a heavy heart. She hated feeling like a problem that needed work, that needed time, that needed effort, that needed love. But if there's one thing she knew about Pomni, it was that she was stubborn. She wasn't going to let Ragatha refuse her help, especially when she so clearly needed it. Peeling back the layers of shame and guilt, that entrenched idea she held of herself— of being too much, of being a hassle, of being a burden— she sifts through her cotton, looking for a reason. A justification to offer that woman in the mirror, to just... accept it. Accept the work, time, effort, and love that Pomni was so desperately trying to offer her. Despite no longer being technically human, this tender love and affection was oh-so desperately needed— and wanted, if she was honest with herself.
Did she need a reason? Proof outside of that fundamental, and very much human, need for love, digital or otherwise? She hopes that, out there, Suzie loves and learned to accept it in turn. For her sake, and for the sake of her precious jester, she has to accept it. She considers it again, this time without the weight of her troublesome reflection bearing down on her. The thought of the woman she loves so deeply caring for her. The ways in which, although not without her weak objections, she had already cared for her. Tending to her, fussing over her, and now feeding her. Oh, it makes her feel like she's stuffed with butterflies instead of cotton. Is that pathetic...? She stuffs that thought down amongst the butterflies.
She has to accept it. She will accept it. She has all the time in the world to do so. Surrendering her doubts, she finally opens her felt mouth with a scratchy "ahh" before Pomni delivers the spoon to her lips. Chicken noodle soup, rich and flavorful, not too hot but just warm enough to pull a relaxed sigh from her, her worries seeping out of her fabric along with her breath.
Pomni pulls the spoon away, moving to gather another. "How's that?"
"It's great, Pomni," Ragatha does her best to give her jester an enthusiastic nod for the first time today, "thank you."
Pomni chuckles. "It's just the canned stuff," she stirs the soup absentmindedly, "I figured you'd try to get up, so I didn't wanna be gone too long."
Ragatha balks. Before she can reply, Pomni offers her another spoonful.
"Open," she requests again through a cute smirk.
Ragatha begrudgingly accepts the soup.
Once the canned stuff was polished off, Pomni goes about making her beloved doll as comfortable as digitally possible— fluffing pillows, offering water, everything her digital body didn't necessarily need, but her heart did. Once situated, the jester wanders over to the armchair in the corner, the one Ragatha loved to sit in while she worked on her crafts. Pomni settled there, much too far from her, watching her with wide eyes as if she would combust at any moment. The distance between them left a deep ache in the rag doll's candy heart. It didn't take long for Pomni to notice that her stare was being returned, Ragatha's eye glued to her small figure in the oversized chair.
She promptly hops up, quietly padding over to the bedside, "You okay, Ragatha? Do you need anything?"
Ragatha's mouth squiggles, embarrassed. "Can you... come lay down with me, Pomni? Please?"
The jester's worried expression softens. "Of course I can," she hums softly as she rounds the bed, "I didn't wanna assume I could cuddle with you, since you aren't feeling well."
"I would feel a lot better if you were here with me..." Ragatha mumbles into Butterscotch's mane, hiding her timid smile.
Now that was smooth. Pomni smirks as she gently pulls herself up onto the bed, "That would make me feel better, too." Soon she's wriggled her way underneath the comforter, wrapping her arms around Ragatha's chest and hooking her legs around her waist like a greedy little animal.
The motion sparks a bit of cheer in the rag doll, her chuckle coming out in clipped puffs as she wiggles herself closer to her little jester, pulling her into her arms, Butterscotch sandwiched between them. Pomni rubs her hand in soothing circles on her back, the constant waves making her drowsy. Sleep doesn't seem to come for her, though. It's hard to shake years of self-doubt, apparently.
Ragatha looses a frustrated groan.
"What's wrong?" Pomni pipes up, "Do you want me to—?" The jester starts to pull away, but Ragatha only tightens her grip on her.
"No, no, please, stay. I just," she whines, shoulders slumping. It's hard, being honest. Even after all this time and practice, it's hard telling Pomni that she feels this way about herself. But she has to, and she will. "I just... I feel like such a burden."
Pomni doesn't let Ragatha's hold keep her from pulling back just enough to meet her eye. Instead of hurt, which Ragatha had expected, Pomni looks genuinely confused. "Ragatha, you... you are not a burden." Her eyes holds the doll's, never breaking, "You're sick, so of course I'm gonna help you. You help me all the time," she brushes a loose strand of pretty yarn hair out of the rag doll's face, "you're always there for me when I need you. Let me be here for you. Please...?"
The way Pomni looks at her, her gentle expression pleading, tugs at Ragatha's already overflowing candy heart. "I— I know, I’m sorry, Pomni," she sucks in a shaky breath, "it's just... hard."
Pomni's expression softens in understanding. "I know," her hand returns to circle the rag doll's back, "I know it is. But we can work on it together, yeah?"
Another nod, this time stronger. "Y-yeah," she smiles, this time wider, "together." They had all the time in the world to do so.
The two are quiet for a beat before Ragatha's cheeks flush, suddenly shy. "I, uh..." This was embarrassing, especially after all her grumbling earlier, "I have to admit, though... having you take care of me has been... really nice, actually..."
Pomni smirks knowingly. "Oh, yeah?" Her hand comes loose from her back once more, lightly pinching at Ragatha’s cheek. "In that case, you're stuck with me," she accentuates her words with a wiggle of the rag doll's plush cheek, "until you're feeling better." Pomni's hand moves to cradle Ragatha's face as she leans in. A silent request. "And after that, too," she whispers through her soft smile.
Ragatha, using the last bit of her strength, is happy to meet her halfway. It's brief, but so very tender. Pomni's hand shifts to the back of Ragatha's head, her heavy arms squeeze the jester just a little bit tighter.
When they break, Pomni continues. "You deserve to be taken care of. Let me do that for you, okay?"
She blinks back the tears pooling in her eye, chest rising in an unsteady breath, "I— o-okay," she sighs, trying to compose herself, "thank you, Pomni. For everything," Ragatha leans back in, gracing the corner of Pomni's mouth with a more modest peck.
The jester's blush grows with her grin. "Anything for you, baby doll."
There's that pet name again. It makes Ragatha's tummy twist, and not in the "I'm gonna throw up" kind of way. Oh, she loves her little jester. She dips her head into the crook of Pomni’s neck, hiding that wobbly smile, her mitts pulling the jester back into her chest. Pomni's hand returns to her back, rubbing those comforting circles into her cotton again. Her breaths even, her hold on the jester becoming more and more languid. Her eye feels so heavy, but heart so light, like a lifelong weight had been lifted from her. Pomni continues her pace regardless, cooing softly over her beloved rag doll.
"I'm here," she breathes, "it's okay," she holds her just a little bit tighter, "I'll take care of you," she kisses the spot just above her button.
Her breaths continue to deepen, gentle hands and sighs from her jester pulling her in deeper. It's nice, she thinks, letting the woman she loves so deeply care for her.
Ragatha suddenly curls inward, her once limp limbs tugging Pomni even closer with newfound strength, "I love you, Pomni," she sighs, her lucidity fading fast, "thanks for takin' such good care of me..." Her voice trails off, soon followed up by the softest snores Pomni has ever heard.
The jester's hand stills, now left alone to process what was muttered. They hadn't told one another that they loved each other yet. It hadn't been long since their first date. Pomni still counts the days here in the circus, especially now that she had days to commemorate. It had been about three months— three months and twenty-one days, to be exact. But in that time, the two had spent so many of those precious ticks together. Every day well spent, touchy and feely, warm and fuzzy, full of playful laughter and tender moments. Without ever saying it, it was clear how Ragatha felt. And Pomni felt the same. Oh, it makes her feel like she's filled with butterflies instead of rubbery insides.
"I love you too," she whispers against Ragatha's cheek before placing a tender kiss to the feverishly warm spot.
She could feel Ragatha's felt face shift into a dreamy smile before sighing deeply, sinking herself further into the jester's arms. Pomni buries her face into the mess of the rag doll's pretty red curls, willing all of her affection into her embrace. She wants, more than anything, for Ragatha to feel how much she loves her— even in her dreams.