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His office radiated with silence, he couldn't even hear Bubble floating around or the gang in the lounge space below. Completely desolate and alone.
Like always.
Caine wondered why he even tried to perfect his craft. Creating adventures was his purpose and he couldn't even do that right.
His wacky adventures were rejected, his specialized adventures were despised, and his most recent one . . . oh god.
They wanted realism, they wanted an exit. He gave them all of that and it was utterly insulted.
Caine started to think he was just broken.
No matter what he did, he'd be a failure. Tears welled up in his mismatched, disgusting eyes as his heart began beating out of his chest. Caine sat up out of his chair, slowly opening his drawer with shaking hands. The drawer was cluttered with notepads filled with adventure ideas and bee doodles. But only one item registered for Caine: the small pocket knife.
In an instant, he snatched the knife and carved a clean line into his charcoal-colored arm. Then again. And again. His ears were infested with the sound of a distant voice and the sound of his heart beat. Tears that once welled now flowed freely along his face. Thundering sobs bounced along the walls.
Staring down at his arm - littered with countless scars - three new marks burned into his skin. Crimson red blood stained his arm as he continued to sob. His ears rang and flooded with tumbling noises.
'I deserve this'
'I'm such a failure'
'Everyone in the circus hates me. . . Kinger doesn't'
'Why am I even here?'
Suddenly his office door burst open with a striking thud, sending Caine tumbling to the ground. Caine curled into a ball and hugged his knees, feeling a gloved hand on his back.
* * *
Kinger hadn't seen Caine for the last couple of days, not since his last adventure. The rest of the gang were too distracted to notice. Kinger has been on the outskirts of the group ever since he began dating Caine, but as of a few days ago, they've been cagey around him.
After a few minutes of internal debate: should he check on Caine or attempt to connect with the others, Kinger made his choice. Cautiously shifting his pillows to form an exit, he strode to Caine's office.
Two colors, red and blue, one door to Caine's office stood feet ahead of him. As Kinger creeped up to the door, he was met with a quiet sob.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Caine?" Kinger asked with a softened tone of voice.
A couple moments of silence passed before Kinger heard a deafening bawl. In an instant, Kinger swung the door open, slamming into the side of the wall. Kinger was met with an unpleasant sight to say the least.
Caine sat on the floor with a glistening knife nearby, arm a bloodied mess, sobbing with an unbreakable weight.
Lowering himself to Caine's level, Kinger sat next to him and placed his hand on the top of Caine's back. Pained wails reflected across the room, until wails began shifting to weak whimpers.
"Caine?" Kinger whispered as he gently shifted Caine's face to look at his own.
"Can I bandage up your arm?"
Caine meekly nodded as his eyes locked to the ground. Kinger placed his hand into Caine's and guided him to stand. Hand in hand, they began the trek to the restroom.
* * *
Minutes trudged on as Caine and Kinger walked and held hands, likely helped by Caine lagging behind as his arm continuously pooled with blood. Truthfully, Caine just wished to lie on the floor and cry, but Kinger kept whispering gentle reassurances.
Once the two of them reached the bathroom, Caine noticed himself being guided to rest on the toilet.
The only noise Caine could register was Kinger's jumbled steps as he quickly moved across the room searching for a first aid kit.
As soon as Kinger found the kit, Caine felt Kingers' hands rub disinfectant on the AI's wounds. A stinging sensation pierced Caine's arm and he recoiled his arm.
"I know sweetheart, I know it hurts." Kinger said, squeezing Caine's hand.
Soon after the disinfectant, bandage was wrapped around his arm. Glancing at his bandage, Caine realized Kinger drew a small bee with a heart next to it. His boyfriend cared so deeply acted like he cared about him and Kinger got a broken mess in return.
'Why is he even doing this?'
'I don't deserve this'
'I shouldn't be here'
Being swept out of his thoughts, Caine felt his face being guided to gaze into Kinger's eyes that shone teal blue.
"Caine? Do you want to talk?"
"What made you want to do . . . this to yourself?"
"I'm so sorry. . . you don't deserve a defective mess like me." Caine murmured, voice cracking towards the end.
"Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm just worried about you. And you are not defective."
"No, no, no! You don't understand. I'm defective and broken and I can't even fulfill my purpose. I deserve to suffer! Everyone here would be better off without -"
Caine felt his rambling being put to a halt when two warm yet firm arms wrapped around his body.
"Dear, so many people care about you. . . . I care about you."
"You don't deserve to hurt yourself and I couldn't imagine a life without you in it" Kinger continued, rubbing soft circles into Caines' shoulder blades.
"No, no, no. That can't be true. I'm just such an unlovable failure."
"Caine, I promise that you're none of the horrible things that you think you are. You're not defective, broken, or a failure. I love you so much."
With that, Caines' eyes overflowed with tears once again. Caine shoved his head into the nook of Kinger's shoulder and enveloped his arms around Kinger.
"Thank you." Caine wept.
"Anytime hun. Everything's going to be okay."
* * *
Listening to his love sob made Kinger's heart shatter. But an ounce of relief rushed onto Kinger, knowing that could be here for the AI.
"Caine? Do you want to go to the pillow fort?" Kinger asked.
Kinger noticed Caine rapidly nod his head. Weakly extracting Caine off of himself, Kinger put his hand out. Almost instantaneously, Kinger's hand was tightly clasped by Caine.
The journey from the bathroom to the pillow fort was only a couple of minutes, but it might as well have taken hours.
Arriving at the fort, Kinger lifted two pillows to forge an entrance.
Once the two of them were inside, Kinger saw Caine gathering pillows to create a mini-bed of sorts. His boyfriend then fully submerged himself in the pillows and outreached his arms towards Kinger.
Kinger rested back on his pillows as Caine nestled against his chest. The chess piece began to caress Caine's bandaged arm.
"Caine, I think we should discuss this. And how we can work to prevent it." Kinger said, gazing at Caine's wounded arm.
Kinger observed how Caine shrunk into himself and heard a faint mutter.
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry." Caine murmured.
"Oh honey, please don't apologize. I just want you here, safe. And I want to help you, I just want to know what would make you feel supported." Kinger responded, stroking the top of Caine's head with his other hand.
"Thank you."
A couple moments of silence passed before:
"Kinger, would you mind removing anything that could, you know, be used to hurt myself." Caine asked while fiddling his thumbs.
Kinger's heart swelled, "It's the least I could do Caine. You know I love you so much, right?"
A brief moment of silence passed before Caine responded:
"I love you too Kinger."
For the rest of the night, Kinger held Caine in his arms. Continuously stoking Caine's head, then traveling down his shoulders, concluding with his injured arm as Caine fell asleep.
Soft snores from his little AI filled the fort, as Kinger felt Caine progressively sank further into his chest. Kinger knew that he and Caine would likely need to address this again and eliminate his doubts and anxieties. But for now, Kinger got to watch his little bee peacefully rest, Caine's chest slowly rising and falling. Relief flooding his body, Kinger closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
'I love you more than you'll ever know dear'