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English
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Published:
2026-03-31
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722
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1/1
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193
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Always Too Late

Summary:

Caine yells at Kinger for abandoning him. Kinger apologizes. Caine doesn't take this well.

Work Text:

Caine hasn't crashed out. Yet. But everyone can see it brewing under the surface. Including Kinger. He tries to say something before it can happen.

"Caine? I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. For everything. You didn't deserve it." Eyes shut tightly. Everyone is watching.

"Don't." Strained. Nobody has heard him speak this way before. The troupe is taken aback. Except for Kinger.

"You didn't deserve to be locked away. You didn't deserve being left behind. Caine, I am so, so sorry."

"Shut up."

"It was selfish. We weren't thinking about you at all. There's nothing I can say that will undo it, but I am truly sorry."

The whole circus glitches. The walls, floor, blocks, everything.

All except for Caine, standing dangerously still from his vantage in the sky.

Then it stops, and something in Caine shifts.

"You're not sorry. You locked me away for years. You had years to feel sorry. I know you heard me crying for you. I know you heard me begging. Didn't even have the decency to kill me. Just left me to suffer. To rot!" Says that last word with a snarl.

"I know. I know you don't believe me, but I'm sorry. I am."

Doesn't have a mouth and yet doesn't know when to keep it shut.

Caine, smooth as bourbon, floats to the checkered floor until his heels kiss it.

"You're right. I don't believe you. It's too late to apologize. But you know who you should be saying sorry to instead?" His voice takes on a cruel glee, "Her."

That finally seems to take Kinger off guard. Caine grins, like a child who just found a new toy to play with. His fingers snap, and all the lights shatter, plunging the circus into darkness. The rest of the troupe feels their voices sputter out as their feet stay glued firmly in place.

No running from this.

"Do you remember the last words you said to your wife before she abstracted?" Feels his control returning, watching Kinger realize where this is going, "I do. You had some silly argument over nothing important. And you know what you said to her to win it?"

"Caine-"

"I do. You told her you didn't recognize her anymore. That the beautiful woman you promised your life to was gone. And then she took that to heart. She ran to your room, breathed in your scent under the covers. And in your bed, she abstracted. Heh, then you really couldn't recognize her! You said it, and it became reality."

"Stop." Kinger pleads.

But he didn't stop when Caine begged. Why should he?

Caine snaps again. With his eyes still closed, Kinger doesn't realize what's happened until he hears it.

Her voice.

"Do you regret it, honey? Are you sorry?"

Opens his eyes to see her. Just as she had been on that day, perfect and whole. Why couldn't he see it then? Why did he have to wait until it was too late?

Chokes on his own saliva as his eyes burn. He so desperately wants to reach out and hold her one last time. He doesn't.

"You dragged me here. You said you'd always be there for me. And then you left me to abstract. Tell me, baby, have you ever told a single truth in your entire life?" Saunters toward him, hips swaying in the exact way they used to.

Voice low, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

So close he can feel her breath against him, "Like always. Too late."

No other way to escape, Kinger buries his face in his hands and sobs.

With that, Caine finally seems satisfied. He returns to himself and floats back into the heavens. He addresses the troupe. It's not like Kinger can hear him anymore.

"No adventure tomorrow. Don't call me unless someone decides to abstract." He's tired. Spiteful. Maybe even regrets what he's just done, but not enough to do anything about it.

With a snap, everyone's agency returns. And Caine is gone. Pomni, Ragatha, and Gangle rush to comfort him. Jax and Zooble simply stare at each other, too stunned to move or even breathe.

All calms down eventually.

Even Caine breathes some sense into himself in his office, curled up and hugging himself tightly.

It's not like anyone else would do it for him.