Work Text:
“You break it, you fix it, y’know.”
Ragatha glared at him, arms crossed as she stood in the middle of the flickering, geometry-failing room they were trapped in. Jax, sitting comfortably (read: sprawled) on a floating half-chair, looked entirely unbothered.
“Pretty sure you stepped in first,” he said, inspecting a glitchy pixel like it was dirt under his nonexistent nails. “So if anyone’s gonna get blamed when Caine shows up with his little chaos-control hat on, it’s you.”
“You were messing with the wall panel before it glitched out!”
He gave a lazy shrug, grinning. “Yeah. And you followed me. That’s on you, doll face.”
Ragatha muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like “unbelievable,” but Jax just kicked his legs up onto a desk that kept warping between a table and a toilet.
The room glitched again. Loud, like static chewing glass.
Jax flinched slightly—just slightly—and hoped she didn’t see it.
“Wow,” he said, tone light and fake-surprised. “Guess this room’s got your emotional stability, Raggy.”
She blinked. “What is wrong with you?”
“Where do you want me to start? Physically? Emotionally? Spiritually?”
She sighed and sat down against a wall that flickered like a broken TV. For a minute, she didn’t say anything. That was rare.
Jax watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked… not sad, exactly. Just tired. Like even she was finally getting worn down by the endless glitch-rinse-repeat of the circus.
That bugged him. More than it should’ve.
“I mean,” she mumbled, half to herself, “what’s even the point of all this anymore?”
Jax raised a brow. “Aw, don’t go getting all existential dread on me. That’s Gangle’s job.”
“No, seriously,” Rags said, glancing over. “We keep doing these games, surviving random chaos every week, and for what? Nothing changes.”
He stretched his arms behind his head. “Yeah, well. That’s life. Or… whatever this is.”
“You’re surprisingly chill for someone who’s also stuck here forever.”
“Correction,” Jax said with a smirk. “I’m not stuck. I’m thriving. The chaos is practically tailored to my personality.”
“You’re a menace.”
“Thank you.”
Another silence.
This time, heavier.
Ragatha looked up at the ceiling—which was currently scrolling text that read:
“ERROR 404: PURPOSE NOT FOUND.”
A little too on the nose.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, “do you ever wonder if we… actually chose to stay here?”
Jax tilted his head.
“Like, what if we weren’t taken? What if we came here on purpose and we just… forgot?”
He blinked. “Wow. Okay. Now you’re sounding like Kinger.”
“I’m serious.”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, if I chose this place, it was probably because Earth was way more annoying.”
“Would it kill you to just be honest for once?”
That one hit.
Harder than it should’ve.
He grinned like it didn’t. “Yeah. It might.”
Ragatha shook her head, but there was no bite behind it this time.
“You’re so full of it,” she said quietly.
“Yup.” Jax leaned back, resting against the air like it was a beanbag chair. “But hey, at least I admit it.”
Another glitch rumbled through the room.
This time, the exit door actually appeared—buzzing, half-formed, and probably a trap.
Jax stood up, brushing himself off with flair.
“Well,” he said, “ladies first.”
Ragatha looked at him like she was waiting for the punchline.
Then, surprisingly, she smiled. Not the bright fake one. A tired, almost amused one.
“Only if you go second.”
Jax smirked.
“Deal.”
The second they stepped through the door, the floor beneath them dropped.
Literally. Like a cartoon trapdoor, but with less warning.
Ragatha yelped — and then gravity went sideways.
One second she was falling. The next, she was standing upright again — only this time, she was in a hallway that looked like it had been sketched by someone who’d seen architecture once and decided they could do it better.
Crooked walls. Endless doors. A ceiling that kept stretching higher the longer you looked at it. Every light bulb buzzed like it was about to explode.
“Ugh. More walking,” Jax groaned, landing beside her with a dramatic flop. “And here I was hoping for a lava pit. At least that would’ve been fun.”
Ragatha dusted herself off. “This feels like another one of Caine’s ‘grand adventures’ gone sideways.”
“Sideways?” Jax echoed. “Raggy, he threw us into a glitch dimension full of flesh walls and Tetris physics. This is a promotion.”
She didn’t argue. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
They started down the hall. Every few steps, the environment twitched — like reality itself was lagging. A door would flicker in and out. A carpet unrolled itself backwards. At one point, the floor turned into checkerboard jelly for exactly three seconds, then back to tile.
“This is giving me a headache,” Ragatha muttered.
“Good. Now we’re both suffering,” Jax said sweetly. “Real bonding moment, huh, doll face?”
She shot him a half-hearted glare. “You’re really committed to being insufferable today, huh?”
“Just doing my part to keep the atmosphere light.”
Then he added, “But hey, what’s the worst that can happen? It eats us and we turn into wallpaper? That’s practically a Tuesday.”
They turned a corner and hit… a dead end.
One door. Glowing faintly. A golden keyhole floating in the middle. No handle.
Ragatha squinted. “Oh no. It’s one of those rooms.”
“Wanna guess what kind of trauma puzzle this one is?” Jax drawled. “Giant chessboard? Talking sock puppets? Existential musical number?”
Before she could reply, the keyhole flared — and the door spoke.
In Caine’s voice.
“WELCOME, PARTICIPANTS, TO THE MAZE OF REFLECTIVE MALEVOLENCE! (working title.) EACH ROOM WILL REVEAL A PIECE OF YOU THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE! OR MAYBE IT’S SOMETHING ELSE! WHO KNOWS! HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!”
The voice cut out.
There was a long pause.
“…Y’know,” Jax said slowly, “I think I liked it better when this place tried to kill us outright.”
Ragatha sighed. “Well. No way out but through.”
“Spoken like a true protagonist.”
The door opened with a loud, dramatic whoosh.
Inside is a room filled with giant, cracked mirrors. Dozens of them. Some floating. Some spinning slowly in mid-air. None of them showed real reflections.
Instead, each mirror showed… distorted versions of them.
In one, Jax was smiling — genuinely. No teeth. No sarcasm. He even looked a bit shy, and he looked— well— pink.
He recoiled instantly.
“Okay. Ew. That’s worse than a jump scare.”
Ragatha glanced at her own — it showed her alone in a room, cackling maniacally. Though in laughter, everything seemed dim on the expression painted on her face.
She didn’t say anything.
Jax noticed.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said automatically.
“Sure you are, Rags. Just like that mirror’s totally fine with showing me as a walking therapy session.”
Another mirror flashed.
This time, it showed them both.
Together.
Talking. Laughing.
Comfortable.
Jax’s expression dropped. Not like fear — more like discomfort. Like he was watching something that wasn’t meant for anyone to see. Especially not them.
“…Gross,” he muttered, turning away.
Ragatha tilted her head. “It’s just a reflection.”
“No, it’s bait.”
A beat.
Then, in a voice quieter than usual: “Let’s keep moving before Caine throws in a slow-motion montage and a sappy piano track.”
Ragatha looked at him.
“Alright, bunny boy. Lead the way.”
His eye twitched. “Don’t call me nicknames. That’s my thing.”
“Fair’s fair.”
He groaned and walked ahead, but not before tossing a small smile over his shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it, Raggy.”
The second they stepped through the mirror door, the floor disappeared again.
But this time, instead of falling, they stopped.
Hard.
A wall slammed shut behind them with a loud clunk, and suddenly — space was gone.
No hallway. No floor. No room. Just… a box?
A stupidly small one.
Jax’s nose nearly bumped into Ragatha’s forehead, and her elbow was mashed awkwardly between their bodies. The air buzzed faintly, as if the space was glitching but couldn’t decide how.
“Wow,” Jax said flatly. “What a luxury. Caine’s really spoiling us today.”
Ragatha glanced around — which was generous, considering she could barely move her head.
“Is this… it? Like, this is the whole room?”
“If you wanna call it that. I’d call it a broom closet designed by a sadist.”
“Okay, don’t panic,” she said, mostly to herself. “We’ve been through worse—”
“Oh, definitely.” Jax leaned slightly, which brought him even closer, because there was literally nowhere else to go. “Remember the balloon dimension? At least that one had legroom.”
She shoved at his chest — gently, but still. “You’re squishing me.”
“Not my fault you’re built like a stress ball.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re taller. You adjust.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Here, I’ll crouch. Maybe if I compress my spine and do some interpretive origami, we’ll fit like puzzle pieces.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Says the one gritting her teeth like we’re five seconds from death.”
“I’m not—”
The space glitched suddenly — a sharp digital flicker. The ceiling briefly dropped an inch, making them both flinch.
“…Okay,” Ragatha muttered. “Maybe five seconds was optimistic.”
Jax chuckled under his breath, low and a little too close to her ear. “Y’know, you’re lucky. You get to be trapped in a box with me. Some folks would pay tickets for this kind of experience.”
“Oh, yeah. Dream come true,” she deadpanned. “Next I’ll get a free t-shirt.”
“What, you want me to sign your arm or something?” he said with a smug grin.
She bumped her forehead lightly against his — half by accident, half out of exasperation. “You are unbearable.”
“And yet, you haven’t clawed your way through the wall just to get away from me. That’s gotta mean something.”
Another flicker buzzed overhead. The wall behind Ragatha glitched and pushed her forward an inch. Now they were fully pressed together.
“Okay, new plan,” she muttered. “Don’t breathe.”
“Don’t breathe? What, are you shy now, Raggy?” He was smirking, obviously enjoying every second of this.
“I’m trying not to knee you in the gut.”
He leaned his head back against the wall, still grinning. “Go ahead. I could use a little excitement.”
She huffed. Her hands had ended up somewhere between their chests, and trying to move them just made everything worse. So she froze. Of course, Jax noticed.
“Aw,” he said, voice dropping. “You nervous?”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
“Uh-huh.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes flicked down for a half-second. Just long enough to catch the tension in her shoulders. “Relax, doll face. I’m not gonna bite.”
Another pause.
“Unless the room tells me to,” he added with a wink.
She groaned, tilting her head to avoid looking at him directly. “Can we just focus on escaping, please?”
“Sure. Soon as you tell me which limb I’m supposed to move first. Pretty sure if I blink too hard, I’ll dislocate your shoulder.”
He shifted, trying to nudge his arm behind her — and immediately elbowed the wall. Hard.
“Ow— okay. Nope. That one’s staying put. We’re officially furniture now.”
“Alright, furniture,” she laughed, “if you come up with a plan, I’ll let you have the corner.”
“Oh? Generous and gullible. I’ll take it.”
The box buzzed again.
And this time, it visibly shrank — maybe an inch. Maybe less. But enough to notice.
Ragatha’s shoulder pressed harder into Jax’s. Their knees bumped again and stayed that way. There was no point adjusting anymore.
She exhaled through her nose. “Okay. So. We’re gonna be pancakes by morning.”
“Speak for yourself, Raggy,” Jax said, craning his neck awkwardly. “I’m wiry. You’re the one with limbs trying to occupy three dimensions at once.”
“Wow. Thanks for the compliment.”
“Wasn’t one.”
Another flicker. The ceiling dropped a little.
Ragatha glanced up. “You think this is one of those lessons? Caine trying to teach us about teamwork or something?”
“Oh, definitely. Moral of the story: cram two glitchy clowns into a shoebox and wait for character growth. Real after-school special stuff.”
“Maybe it’s about trust.”
“Blegh. Gross.”
She smirked. “Scared of a little emotional growth?”
“I just think anyone who says ‘you can trust me’ is probably the first one to turn you into a jack-in-the-box.”
“…Y’know, that explains a lot about you.”
“Flattered.”
They sat in tense silence for a moment, save for the digital buzz around them. Then the walls lurched again, and Ragatha stumbled forward, barely catching herself before she fully face-planted into Jax.
His arms came up automatically. One around her waist. The other bracing her back.
They froze.
“…Comfy?” he asked, voice low, smug, and a little too close to her ear.
“You caught me,” she said, not moving. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Oh, too late, doll face.”
She sighed, shoulders staying against his chest. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Push people away. Make everything a joke. Like it’s safer if no one knows what’s really going on in your head.”
“…Yeah?” Jax said. “And you always act like everything’s fine, even when it’s definitely not.”
Ragatha’s eyes flicked up. “That’s different.”
“No, it’s not,” he muttered. “You just use smiles instead of sarcasm.”
She didn’t answer right away.
The box shrank again. Tighter. Close enough that she couldn’t even turn her head properly anymore.
“I hate this place,” she whispered.
He didn’t laugh.
“…Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
Another pause.
“You ever think about what you’d do if we got out?”
Ragatha blinked. “Out? Like… out out? We’re not getting out.”
“Never said we were,” Jax said. “Just wondering what a bright little goody-two-shoes like you would do with the concept of freedom.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. Sit in the sun, I guess. Talk with my horses. And maybe, take a nap that doesn’t end in glitch static and body horror.”
Jax gave a low chuckle.
“What about you?” she asked. “You’d go full chaos, right? Push people into fountains. Steal candy from kids. Untie everyone’s shoelaces?”
Jax gave a little shrug, the motion making her shift slightly in his grip. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d just take a walk. A real one. No cartoonishly bright objects. No fake skies. Just… quiet.”
She blinked, surprised. “You?”
He rolled his eyes. “Calm down, I didn’t say I’d go hold hands with nature or anything.”
The ceiling gave another warning buzz. Now even breathing felt like a tactical operation.
“Hey,” Jax said suddenly, voice still too close. “If we do get squished into one weird pixel blob… call dibs on having better teeth.”
“Not a chance,” Ragatha said, grinning. “You grind yours in your sleep. I heard it.”
Another shudder rocked the box. This time it didn’t buzz or flicker — it groaned. The ceiling was barely a head’s width above them now, and the walls pressed in just enough to make moving feel optional. Even blinking felt like a waste of space.
“I’m running outta places to put my knees,” Jax muttered. “At this point, you might as well sit in my lap.”
Ragatha shifted, but there was nowhere to go. Her elbow brushed his ribs.
“You say that like it’s a joke,” she said, “but I think that might actually be our only option in like… two minutes.”
“Eh. Could be worse. At least you’re not Pomni. She’d be screaming herself inside-out by now.”
“I’m close to screaming,” she said, not joking.
Jax didn’t respond.
He was staring at the ceiling now — or more specifically, the way the light above them seemed to bend, subtly warped like it was being stretched.
Ragatha caught his expression. That usual bored smirk was starting to crack at the edges.
“Hey,” she said. “Still with me?”
Jax snapped his attention back to her. “Huh? Yeah. Just… processing the whole ‘death-by-box’ thing. Real dignified way to go. If we ever do die that is.”
“You think this is it?”
He paused. His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Feels… off.”
“How?”
“I dunno,” he muttered. “Usually when this place tries to kill us, it does it with more flair. Giant teeth. Game-show music. Boring us to death with Bubble’s singing. Not this… slow pressure cooker vibe.”
Ragatha’s brows knit. “So it’s not normal?”
Jax scoffed. “You’re asking me what counts as normal in a place where we got turned into hot air balloons last week?”
“Fair.”
Another sound — this time a crack — echoed behind one of the walls. Ragatha flinched, her palm flattening against Jax’s chest to steady herself. He tensed under the touch.
“Okay,” she said, voice a little thinner now. “No more shrinking, please. I’ve had enough character development for one day.”
“Oh, c’mon. Look on the bright side, doll face,” Jax said, smirking again, but it was forced. “At least if we croak in here, we’ll go out stylish. Matching outfits and everything.”
“Don’t joke about that.”
“Why not?” He raised a brow. “You scared?”
“Of course I am.”
The walls pulsed again. Her grip on his vest tightened.
Jax fell quiet.
“…Raggy,” he said after a moment, voice lower now. “If this place really is trying to mess with us… it’s doing a pretty good job.”
She looked up. He didn’t usually admit stuff like that.
“You mean because we’re trapped?”
“No. I mean because I’m actually thinking.” He gave her a dry look. “That’s when you know it’s bad.”
Ragatha gave a weak laugh — but it cracked partway through.
“I keep thinking it’s gonna stop. Like the next second, it’ll open up, and we’ll pop out onto the stage or something. Caine laughing his teeth off.”
“…Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“But it’s not happening.”
“Yet,” Jax said, but it sounded more like habit than reassurance.
The box shuddered violently.
Something shifted — gravity, maybe — and they both toppled sideways, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, no space left to adjust. Her hand ended up against his chest again. His tail flicked involuntarily, trapped under her thigh.
Ragatha didn’t move. She just whispered, “I don’t want to glitch out here.”
Jax went still.
“…You won’t,” he said, after a beat. “I’d start banging on the wall with my shoe if it came to that. Annoy the box into letting us out.”
“Wouldn’t work.”
“I am really annoying, though.”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “You are.”
They stayed like that for a moment — pressed close, everything vibrating with static.
They stayed like that for a moment — pressed close, everything vibrating with static.
It was too quiet.
Too warm.
Too… something.
Ragatha could feel Jax breathing. Not fast, but not calm either. Like his usual smug detachment had been peeled back just enough to show the wiring underneath — jittery, flickering. Human, almost. If they still counted as that.
Her fingers twitched, brushing the fabric of his vest. “Y’know,” she said softly, “I figured if we ever got stuck like this, you’d be the one losing it first.”
Jax huffed. “Pfft. Please. I’ve got at least three more walls to go before I start clawing at ‘em.”
“Uh-huh. So the foot tapping and the tail flicking are what? You stretching?”
“I’m multitasking, doll face,” he said, voice dry, but quieter than usual. “Panicking and keeping you calm. I’m generous like that.”
She rolled her eyes, then let her head tilt, just slightly, until it bumped against his shoulder. “You’re weird.”
“I’m adaptable.”
Another pause.
And then, almost too casually:
“…You’re handling this better than I thought.”
She blinked. “Than you thought I would?”
“Yeah. Figured you’d be all sunshine and pep right up ‘til the box actually crushed us, then melt down in a sparkly mess.”
Ragatha frowned. “That’s… kinda mean.”
“I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing,” he said quickly. Then, after a beat: “I just didn’t think you could take it.”
She looked at him.
He wasn’t smirking. Not really. His expression had settled into something neutral. Thoughtful. Serious, but not heavy. Like he was circling around a point and deciding whether or not to land on it.
“…I underestimated you,” he added, just barely above a whisper.
It caught her off guard.
For once, she didn’t know what to say.
The air between them thickened. Buzzing. Tight. Not just from the walls — from the silence.
Then, of course, Jax ruined it.
Jax shifted, just slightly. “With how chipper you usually are? I figured you’d short-circuit the second things got bleak.”
Ragatha raised a brow. “Gee. Thanks.”
He smirked faintly. “It’s a compliment. Kinda.”
There it was. Back to safe territory.
Ragatha snorted, elbowing him weakly. “Don’t be sweet and then immediately take it back.”
“Sweet? Me? Ew.”
But he didn’t pull away.
Didn’t move at all.
They sat like that, knees and shoulders touching, the shrinking space pushing them closer inch by inch.
Then came the sound again.
Not mechanical this time — but organic. A breath? A murmur? No… it almost sounded like someone humming.
Ragatha froze. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Jax said, his voice low. “Yeah, I did.”
They didn’t move.
Suddenly—
BOOM!
The box split down the middle with a blinding flash of white, like reality itself just tore open with no warning. Wind rushed past them—no, not wind. Code. Bright, floating bits of nonsense and noise spun around them as gravity tilted, then reversed, then dropped out entirely.
Ragatha yelped as the floor disappeared beneath them. Jax’s arm instinctively wrapped around her waist as they fell — or rather, were yanked — through the tear in space.
And then, silence. A pop. The world reassembled.
They landed with a thud onto a checkerboard tile floor. The kind that shouldn’t be solid but was. The air was too clean. Too colorful.
Ragatha blinked. “Wait—wha—”
“AHA! And out you pop, my little compression crustaceans!”
Caine’s voice rang out like a confetti cannon stuffed with bad ideas. He twirled into view upside down, top hat spinning like a game wheel. “You two lasted way longer than I expected!”
Jax sat up slowly, dazed. “What… the hell?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Box Bunnies!” Caine declared, flipping midair with sparkles. “It was all part of the plan! A totally randomized interpersonal dynamic stress trial — experimental, non-consensual, and completely hilarious!”
He gestured grandly, and with a ripple of static, several more duos blinked into existence around them — Pomni immediately started apologizing to Kinger, Zooble was muttering something about “spatial betrayal,” and Gangle, unsurprisingly, broke her comedy mask. Bubble floated by and handed her a bent kazoo with a deadpan, “This helps.”
“Each of you got a box! Each of you got a buddy!” Caine sang. “And each of those boxes were set to get reeeeally cozy until something cracked — your psyche, your patience, or your emotional repression!”
Jax squinted. “You threw us in a death trap.”
“A team-building cuddle-coffin,” Caine corrected with two thumbs-up. “Big difference!”
“You kidnapped us and shoved us in a shrinking box!” Ragatha snapped. “That’s not team-building, that’s—!”
“Bonding through adversity!” Caine interrupted. “It builds trust! And trauma! And trust built on trauma! Classic circus methodology!”
Jax deadpanned, “Did you just quote a Buzzfeed article.”
Caine gasped. “How dare you. I write my own blurbs.”
Ragatha turned toward Jax, exasperated. “He trapped us for ten minutes and expects us to hug it out.”
“Felt like ten hours,” Jax muttered.
“Oh come on!” Caine spun like a top. “You didn’t abstract! You didn’t glitch out! You even touched faces for a second! That’s practically progress!”
“You were watching?” Ragatha’s eye twitched.
“Duh.” He pulled out a remote labeled ‘EMOTIONAL VOLATILITY MONITOR’ and gave it a shake. “I had bets running. Zooble and Gangle folded in four minutes. Pomni bit Kinger. You two? Delicious slow burn.”
Jax blinked. Then turned to Ragatha.
“I’m gonna strangle him.”
“I’ll hold his arms.”
Caine clapped, beaming. “Gosh, I love teamwork!”
Jax muttered something under his breath — probably not broadcast-friendly — and brushed himself off like the past however-many-minutes hadn’t even happened. Like he hadn’t just had a full-blown moment with Ragatha, or nearly clawed at the walls in genuine panic.
Ragatha adjusted her bow, kept her usual bright composure, and didn’t mention the way her arms still felt weirdly empty.
“Well,” she said, forcing a laugh that came a little too quickly. “That was… mildly traumatic.”
“Could’ve been worse,” Jax said, giving a cocky half-shrug. “Could’ve been trapped with Kinger.”
Ragatha arched a brow, already one step ahead. “Or Zooble.”
He snorted. “Touché, doll face.”
They stood there for a second too long, neither walking away, neither saying anything else.
Then Jax stretched, overly casual. “Anyway, I’ve got better things to do than group therapy with a bow on it.”
Ragatha smiled — that same bright, practiced one she always wore. “Back to the usual, huh?”
He started to walk off. “It’s not like anything happened.”
“Right,” she agreed. “Nothing at all.”
They didn’t look at each other as they left.
But something hung in the air — quiet, unspoken, and already half-lost beneath the usual circus static.
Whatever it was, it hadn’t vanished completely. Just enough of it lingered to make them both look twice the next time they passed each other in the hall.