Chapter Text
Every adventure was hated by the participants. They ask for an exit, he creates an adventure towards one. He always tried to understand, but Caine never could. Caine tried to resolve things, but ended up the villain. Kinger was scared of him, so he pretended to love him after the big crash-out. Caine wanted to cry an artificial tear but nothing could come out.
He failed them. Caine deserved to be hated. After all he'd done Caine shouldn't be allowed to be loved. He turned to bubble his only true companion in all this. “Don't I deserve to be hated,” he asked. “Of course you do! You tortured them,” he looked at Caine’s face and added “Did you really think I'd say no because you said sorry?”
Caine's front teeth lower. His legs weakened like cooked noodles. His eyes still remained dry. “I just want to be loved,” he muttered. Bubble retorted, “They lost hope in you. Just delete your file.” “Bubble you can't say that,” he cried. “If you feel that bad, maybe you should try to go through their pain,” bubble suggested. “You're… right,” Caine agreed. Bubble picked up a box cutter with his teeth and gave it to Caine.
“I have no boxes to cut,” Caine tilted his gums. “Haha you silly fool. You're supposed to injure yourself,” Bubble laughed. Caine poked bubble with it; since it would be awkward with him in the room. “Time to understand you pained humans,” he muttered. The box cutter sliced his arm up. Cuts were leaking red onto his suit paints and sleeves. He had to cover his own mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain.
His eyes flashed with blue error screens and tears gushed out his eyes. Bubble reappears behind him. “It's not a bad time to delete yourself is it?” Caine threw his boxcutter to the side. He entered the files on his computer and selected all his files. Yet, when he tried to delete them it said “Authority not granted.” “Bubble could you help me with,” he stopped. He heard footsteps and got on the floor looking for the box cutter.
The door in front of them creaked open slowly. He forgot to #*$@ing lock it! “Can I come in,” Caine asked. Before he responded Caine opened the door.
Kinger looked at his arm then at the haphazardly thrown to the side box cutter. “Kinger it's not what you think ” he panicked “You see bubble was being mean to me and did this.” “Blame yourself unlovable ^$#%&,” Bubble cursed. Kinger put a hand on his head and he leaned into it. “Caine we don't hate you, we just need more time to process what has happened to us.” “Why hate you when we can just hate you,” bubble said.
King spawned in a first aid kit. “What made you want to hurt yourself,” Kinger inquired. “Because no one loves me. All I do is hurt them.” Caine put his arm around him. “I could never hate you. The others don't hate you either, they're just scared. After all, you did get way bigger and scarier when you hurt them.” he cleaned the arm with rubbing achol. Then he wrapped it in clean white gauze.
“He doesn't actually love you Caine,” bubble said. “Caine, when did bubble start acting this way?” “He started after I got mad at everyone,” he looked down. “Can I borrow your computer,” he asked.
“Do you have to," he asked. “Yes I do,” he said. Kinger sat in Caine's chair at his computer. Caine tried to stop him without excessive force, but Kinger just pushed him back. “This is because I love you,” he said. Kinger’s eyes widened. He stopped the deletion sequence, and clicked around.
Kinger turned to face Caine in his chair. “I know what's up with you and bubble now, it's a dangerous computer virus,” he said. Caine's arms hovered over his lover's shoulders as if he wanted a hug. Kinger pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you.”
“Caine I need to talk to you after I delete this,” his voice was laced in seriousness. Caine spun his bowtie with his finger. Caine was powered down temporarily while he worked on the virus.
When Caine woke up Kinger patted his head. “You and bubble should feel a lot better,” Kinger said. Caine felt like the storm had calmed into a rain. “So, tell me why a delete sequence was requested,” Kinger questioned. “I-I thought I didn't deserve to be a leader, since I failed the circus.” “How can I help you,” Kinger asked. “I just want to feel loved,” he said quietly.
Kinger then put a documentary about bees on the computer. Caine looked at it and sat on the floor next to Kinger. He put his head on Kinger’s shoulder and Kinger put his hand on Caine's shoulder. “Do you feel more loved now?” He nodded his eyes moist with happy tears. “If you pull this again I'll have a scratch,” he paused. “I mean I'll limit what you can create.”
“You miss the scratch too?” “Yeah,” he sighed. “He was so serious, remember when he yelled at you for programming bad puns into me,” Caine laughed. “I miss him.” Kinger’s grip tightened. Caine looked up at him. “I'm sorry for your loss, is there anything I can do to lighten the load.” “No, but thanks for your consideration.”
Kinger was the comforter not usually the comfortee, but when someone cared for him like that he felt loved. “I haven't felt this way in a while,” he half smiled “I almost forget what it was like to love.”