Chapter Text
It was nighttime in the circus. Everything was dark, outside of the tent, you could see the stars, and it was that one time in the day when Kinger's head cleared up properly.
Sure, he could think when in the dark in general, but nighttime just felt so much better for him. He could actually move around freely, nothing obstructing his vision, no restrictions to one area... he could actually be sane and still have total access to every sense and area at the same time. He always stayed awake at night because of that. You didn't need to sleep in a digital realm like the circus anyway.
Nighttime allowed for some retrospection, of course. Kinger usually liked to spend his time thinking back on what he could remember of the day. But all he could really recall of today was how Caine's behaviour had just seemed... off.
It was subtle, of course—Caine was amazing at hiding things when he could—but something was amiss. He'd seemed quieter today, less fidgety, less energetic... he'd even been a bit hoarse when he was announcing the adventure for the day.
Kinger, being his creator, knew Caine better than anyone else; he knew something was wrong when he remembered that. He'd programmed practically every mannerism, every quirk, every trait that bordered on unusual for even another AI. He could easily tell what was right and what wasn't. And this wasn't right at all.
He pushed himself up off the floor of his pillow fort, stretching a bit—god, he was too old for this. But, alas, he was the creator, and he had to deal with his creation's issues whether he liked it or not. He couldn't just abandon what he had made.
He walked out of the pillow fort, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness around him. Thank god for being able to think clearly right now. He wandered through the circus, checking the halls, the random doors, even outside. But Caine was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was in his office?
Kinger closed his eyes, focusing his imagination on a doorway that led directly to the doors of the office. He didn't want to go through the hassle of using clipping issues and all that just to try and get somewhere Caine might not even be, so he just made it up as always.
He opened his eyes, seeing the door way right in front of him, the familiar red and blue doors standing just beyond it. One thing was true, he could always rely on his imagination.
Kinger stepped through the doorway, hesitating for a moment before knocking gently, just enough to be heard without startling anyone too much.
"Caine? Are you in there?"
No response. If Kinger had a mouth, he'd be frowning at that. He grabbed the handle of the blue door, opening it up. There was some light, but not enough to affect Kinger's mind, thankfully.
His eyes landed on the desk. Where, lo and behold, Caine was. However, the sight was still more worrying than he'd like.
Caine was slumped over, head resting on his arms in a similar manner to someone resting face down at a table. Most would think he was asleep, but Kinger could tell by the slight tension in his body that he was, in fact, conscious.
Kinger came closer, moving to stand next to Caine's seat, "...Caine?"
Caine's head practically shot up, startling him a little. The AI looked at him with glassy, unfocused eyes.
"Kingeeeer! What–" A slight cough escaped him, "What're you doin' here?"
"I... came to check on you." Kinger squinted a bit, his worry intensifying, "Are you okay?"
Caine made a staticky noise, like a buffering computer, "I'm fiiiiine! I can work, trust– trust me."
Caine moved to stand up after saying that. His legs trembled slightly, before giving out entirely. Kinger caught him with gentle hands. The AI's whole body was burning hot. His systems must have been overheating.
"Careful!" Kinger gently scolded him as he lifted him up slightly, "You'll hurt yourself."
Caine just mumbled incoherently, looking like he was halfway to dreamland already. He was limp and pliant in Kinger's grasp, letting himself be guided. He clearly didn't have the energy for much protesting anyway.
Kinger carefully picked him up, his grip firm and steady, "You're really warm, champ... Come on, let's go to the pillow fort."
"But the adventure... I haven't finiiiished..." Caine complained deliriously.
"You're in no state to work on that right now. Rest comes first."
"But it's all I'm good for..."
Kinger's heart squeezed at that. He knew it was Caine's entire purpose, but it somehow still stung when he acted like he wasn't good at anything else.
"It's better for you to take a break, Caine. You're not invincible." Kinger gave him a stern look, continuing to carry him to the pillow fort despite his protests.
Caine just stayed silent at that. He remained that way until they got to the pillow fort.
Kinger placed him down on the floor after gathering an array of pillows and blankets for him to lay on. Caine nuzzled into them, looking thoroughly miserable now. He wasn't even trying to hide it.
"Kingeeeer... I can feel everything... I hate feeling everything..."
Caine's voice had that characteristic whine to it that always came when his senses were too active. Kinger mentally cursed out whoever at his old workplace decided to make the AI's processors so sensitive.
"I know, I know. Try not to focus on it. Just rest." Kinger knew there wasn't much he could do for the sensory issues. It was just something he had to work around.
Caine nodded slowly, closing his jaws as he tried not to think about how overloaded his senses were. Kinger watched as he swiftly fell into rest mode. He let out a sigh, thinking about what could have caused this. After a moment of consideration, he closed his eyes and imagined a computer he could use in order to look at Caine's code. Conjuring was quite convenient at times, really.
He opened his eyes again, being met with the computer he imagined. Carefully, he skimmed through the code until—yep, there it was.
In the code in front of him, a clear strain of virus code was evident. In Caine's case, computer viruses often ended up replicating the symptoms of general human illness. This one looked like some strain of the flu. Luckily, Caine had a built-in antivirus, and Kinger was pretty sure it could handle this virus on its own.
He left the computer running, just so he could check it every so often. Caine would likely be sick for a good amount of time, and while he wasn't too sure what symptoms would hit him, Kinger was willing to be there to try and deal with it.
He sighed again, thinking back to Caine's insistence on working. It made him wonder. How many of these moments had he missed without even realising it? How many viruses and glitches and ill feelings had Caine pushed himself through? How many times did he need support only to get none?
Kinger turned to look at the recharging AI still dozing on the floor. He wasn't going to let Caine keep going unnoticed. No, never again.