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“Hey.” Pomni rocks back and forth on her feet outside of Ragatha’s bedroom. “Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
“That’s sweet of you, Pomni.” Ragatha offers her a weak smile. “I’m alright, just kinda…”
“Yeah.” Pomni nods wearily. “Same here.”
A few empty seconds tick by before Ragatha finally steps back, swinging her door open a bit wider. “You want to come in for a bit?”
Pomni smiles up at her. “I’d like that.”
They end up sitting side by side on the edge of Ragatha’s bed. The ensuing awkward silence is kept company by the nervous fidgeting that seems to suddenly possess them both.
“So, today’s adventure, huh? It was sure…something.”
Ragatha silently thanks Pomni for ripping the bandaid off. She isn’t sure she would have had the will to do it herself. Her ability to speak on the day’s events feels hindered by the painfully tight coil of anguish that sits heavily in the pit of her stomach.
But Pomni probably isn’t feeling much better, so she forces the words out anyway.
“You don’t have to pretend like it wasn’t awful. I shouldn’t have. Pretended, I mean. Back there in the console room.” She’s surprised by her own honesty, especially seeing as she hadn’t been able to muster a shred of it following Caine’s big reveal.
“It’s okay,” Pomni says. “It was a lot to process all at once.”
“Well, that was sure one of Caine’s more…creative adventures!”
She has to fight the urge to wince as the scene plays through her head for the umpteenth time that evening. She can already feel it staking its claim in the section of her memory reserved for past mistakes and social fumbles that keep her lying awake at night, hating herself and wondering if she’d ever be able to communicate like a normal person or if she was destined to forever screw up every social interaction she ever had.
“I’m still sorry. I’ve been trying really hard to be better about my positivity when it’s clearly not helpful. It had to be the last thing anyone needed after…all that. I feel horrible.”
“It probably didn’t help,” Pomni allows, “but try not to beat yourself up over it. You were dealing with a lot, so you fell back on something familiar. That’s perfectly understandable.”
Ragatha isn’t sure whether Pomni’s insights are making the knot in her stomach better or worse. On one hand, she feels exposed like everything she despises about herself is being dissected and analyzed under a microscope. On the other, it’s oddly reassuring to have somebody acknowledge her issues head-on. People usually just look away.
“They probably still appreciate that you tried,” Pomni continues. “Even if it was…”
“What do you say we forget about all this and go back down to the lake for a bit? I’m sure we’ll all feel a little better after we get some fresh air!”
“Insincere,” Ragatha supplies. “It was insincere.”
Pomni frowns. “I don’t think it was. At least, I don’t think your intentions were. You were trying to keep everyone from freaking out, right? To ease tensions?”
“I mean yeah, but—”
“Then you weren’t being insincere. The way you went about it was just…misguided.”
“And yeah, it sucks that this little escape plan was a bust, but that doesn’t mean we won’t find a real way out one day! Come on guys, don’t lose hope yet!”
“In the end I still lied to myself about how horrible the situation was. I hate that I always do that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be honest about the bad stuff I feel. Not really.”
There’s a pause, and Ragatha realizes a beat too late that she’s opened up the floor for Pomni to ask the one question she’s been dreading.
“Do you know why you have a hard time expressing your negative emotions? Only if you’re comfortable telling me, that is. I’m just curious.”
“I don’t know,” Ragatha deflects immediately. Automatically.
She bites the inside of her cheek. It’s another lie. Another sidestep in her never-ending dance to dodge emotional honesty.
Any other day she’d never dream of talking to another living soul about the root cause of her manufactured positivity. But there had already been so many lies that day, so much deception, and the way her stomach twists as this latest fib slips out gives her a sudden urge to spill the ugly truth that festers behind it.
“I guess it’s… I mean my mother always…” She lets out a resigned sigh. “I wasn’t really allowed to be angry growing up. Or really anything other than pleasant for that matter.”
She glances over at Pomni for any sign of disapproval, any indication that she’s gone too far. Pomni simply nods for her to continue.
“I was punished any time I got upset, because that would mean I wasn’t the perfect daughter I was expected to be. And of course I wanted to be perfect. What kid wants to disappoint their mother? So I just…kind of…learned to hide it all instead.”
“Is that what happened today?”
Ragatha nods, rolling a loose thread on her sleeve between her thumb and forefinger. “Deep down I knew it was wrong to try and make everything seem okay when it clearly wasn’t. I just wanted to stop feeling so awful. I wanted everyone to stop feeling so awful. I just wanted it all to stop.”
“It makes sense why you’d feel the need to react like that,” Pomni says. “It can be really hard to unlearn something that’s been drilled into you since childhood.”
There’s another pause, another risky question on the tip of Pomni’s tongue. “Have any of us ever done anything to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with your emotions?”
Ragatha squirms her shoulders into a hesitant shrug. “Every now and then, but I don’t think it’s ever been intentional. Not like it was with my mother.”
“Is there anything we can do to be better about that? Intentional or not, I’d hate to make you feel that way.”
“I don’t know.” This time, the statement is genuine. Cold hard logic can only do so much to combat the sense of dread that hits her when she contemplates opening up to the others. “I just feel like being honest with that stuff will drive people away and make them hate me. Then again, trying to be happy and helpful seems to do the same thing. It sure did with my mother. She hated me no matter what I tried to be for her.”
Pomni searches her face, far more empathy than Ragatha deserves pooling in her eyes. “You’re being honest with me right now, and I don’t hate you.”
“I…” Logic takes two steps forward. The fear pushes it one step backward. “I guess.”
Pomni looks thoughtful. She pulls her legs up onto the bed, shifting to face her properly. “Why don’t you tell me how you feel about what happened today? However much you’re comfortable telling me.”
Her non-existent heart rate spikes, and she glances away. “I’m not sure you want to hear that.”
“Of course I do. I have a lot of, well, not nice thoughts about today too. You wouldn’t be the only one.”
She rubs her arm, conflicted.
“And it should go without saying, but I won’t hate you no matter what you decide to tell me,” Pomni adds.
It’s a tempting offer, but not one she can accept lightly. A lifetime of verbal lashings from her mother loop through her mind like a broken record.
But the mess of despair that’s been swirling through her all evening seems to have broken her resolve, because in the end, her selfish need to purge her emotional cocktail wins.
“I’m angry,” she forces herself to say. The truth is bitter, but in an odd way it tastes better than the sickly-sweet flavor of her lies. “I’m really, really angry.”
“I am too,” Pomni says. “What are you mad about specifically?”
“Caine.” Ragatha takes a deep breath. “I hate that he thought it was okay to dangle hope in front of us and then just snatch it away like it meant nothing. And, you know, that it was okay to mess with our minds without our consent? I feel so violated. I usually try to cut him some slack knowing he doesn’t really get humans or understand why we all want to leave so badly, but…still. I’m furious with him.”
“That’s completely justified. What else?”
“I guess I’m pretty mad at Jax too. And…betrayed? Like yeah, he’s Jax, but for him to try and trap us here? I thought for sure he wanted to escape as much as the rest of us. I have no idea what could have possibly been going through his head to make him press that button, but if it had all been real, then…yeah. I don’t think I could have forgiven him.” She takes another steadying breath before continuing. “But honestly? More than anything, I’m just angry with myself.”
Pomni tilts her head in question. “Why? For saying the wrong things back there?”
“That too, but it’s mostly just for letting myself believe that we were actually going to get out of here. That it was over. No more adventures, no more stupid avatars, no more watching the people I care about abstract one by one. I thought I was finally safe, that I wasn’t…”
She cuts herself off, hoping she’d been quick enough that Pomni won’t be inclined to ask for elaboration.
Of course, Pomni does just that.
“That you weren’t what?”
“That I wasn’t going to end up abstracting,” Ragatha admits quietly.
And just like that, she’s said too much—beyond what she’s been given permission to dump on Pomni’s shoulders. She can practically feel the jester’s tolerance wearing thinner and thinner before she inevitably decides Ragatha isn’t worth the trouble. Or worse, figures out that she’s made a horrible mistake by thinking she ever wanted to be around her in the first place.
It must show on her face, because Pomni gives her another reassuring nod—permission to continue being selfish. “It’s okay. I’m still listening.”
“I…” A part of her still doesn’t want to say it, but the coil in her stomach twists tighter and tighter until it finally squeezes the words out for her. “I’ve just…been here a long time. Like a really long time. It gets harder to stay sane every year I spend in this place, so I’m always having to work harder at it too. Because if I don’t, it’s all going to catch up to me. I know it will. It’s like I can feel it constantly lurking and waiting for me to slip up. And so far I never have, but now…”
“You thought it was finally over,” Pomni fills in. “And it wasn’t. You got your hopes up, and you got hurt. And you’re afraid it’ll kick you while you’re down?”
She swallows. Nods. “I’m terrified I’m going to be next. It hurts so bad, Pomni. It’s like all of the fear and hopelessness I felt when I first got here is back and worse than ever. I mean heck, I’ve just been holed up in my room crying for hours on end. I haven’t done that in years. I’d gotten so good at coping with everything, but for a few hours I was stupid enough to let my guard down and all that progress just feels ruined. I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to go through it all over again. It’s going to get me first, I know it is! I’ll just be gone one day, locked in the cellar for the rest of eternity, and I—”
She doesn’t even glance at Pomni this time for permission to keep going as the final piece of the ugly truth forces its way out.
“I’m so scared that nobody will miss me,” she all but whispers. “That they won’t even care that I’m gone. That they won’t even notice I’m gone, because nobody ever seems to notice I’m here in the first place.” A laugh escapes her, hollow and pained. “That’s a stupid thing to be afraid of, isn’t it?”
“No.” Pomni shakes her head. “That’s not stupid at all.” There’s something fiercely sincere in her eyes that tempts Ragatha to believe her. “I’d miss you.”
She ducks her head, eyes stinging with vulnerability. The hardwood floor of her bedroom fades into a blurry haze in front of her.
“I would,” Pomni insists. “I’d miss you a lot. I know the others would too. Really.”
Her chest feels too tight to say anything in return, so she doesn’t. Beside her, she hears a sympathetic sigh.
“This isn’t something new, is it? You’ve been feeling like this for a long time.”
She nods.
“You’ve never…talked to the others about it? Not even Kinger?”
A shake of her head.
“You’re afraid it’ll push them away?”
A nod.
“They care about you, Ragatha. I think it’s just hard for them to connect with you when you’re constantly trying to be somebody you’re not. But I really don’t think it would push them away if you reached out to them. They’d care that you’re hurting, and they’d want to help you.”
“They’ll hate me,” she rasps.
“They won’t. I still don’t.”
“But…” Ragatha wipes her tears away in frustration. “It still feels like they will.”
“You know what? Then don’t worry about them right now. You’ve got enough going on tonight.”
Ragatha shakes her head. “I need to go apologize to them for today. I need to explain myself, I need to—”
“You need to take care of yourself first,” Pomni interjects. “You should take some time to process everything you’re feeling, and later on if you still want to talk to them about it, you’ll be in a better place.”
Ragatha draws in a shaky breath. Lets it out. The knot in her stomach writhes as it tries to figure out exactly what her breakdown has done to it. “Okay. Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Honestly?” Ragatha huffs out a mirthless laugh. “Like sh[%$!#].”
Pomni’s optimistic smile falls.
“But it’s a slightly different kind of sh[%$!#] than before…?” she tries to amend.
The smile returns—crooked, but genuine. “Well, to be fair, it was kind of a sh[%$!#] day.”
“Yeah. You sure got that right.”
They fall silent for a short while. It’s peaceful this time. Comfortable. The tension inside of her starts to unwind for the first time since being cinched tight back in the console room.
“Hey, thanks for talking to me,” Pomni says. “I know that probably wasn’t easy for you.”
“Please, if anything I should be thanking you for listening. I know you’re having a hard time right now too. I’m sorry if it was too much.”
“It wasn’t, I promise.” Her tone is kind yet laced with a hint of concern. “But, Ragatha?”
“Yes?”
“What you said about being scared you’re going to abstract? I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Ragatha swallows. “Pomni, I— I don’t want you blaming it on yourself if I end up—"
“You’re not responsible for protecting me from my own feelings,” Pomni says firmly. “But nobody should have to be the only person trying to hold themself together, and it sounds like you’ve been doing that for a really long time. Everyone’s hurting right now, and things are going to be hard for a while, but I know we can get through it if we stick together.” She reaches out, extending an open hand to Ragatha. “All of us.”
The offer is a silent ‘You can trust me with what you’re going through.’ While Ragatha’s heart wants nothing more than to accept it, the fear of it all going horribly wrong pushes back with an equal intensity.
But then she meets Pomni’s eyes, and finds there’s also an ‘I trust you too.’
It’s just enough to tip the scale.
“Yeah. You’re right.” She takes a deep breath, letting her conflicted frown morph into a wobbly smile as she slips her hand into Pomni’s. “We’ll get through this.”