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In the dim light of the fractured circus, Kinger speaks. He's going over their options for what they should do next, or forming some kind of theory. Ragatha's finding it hard to follow along. Despite her best efforts to remain present, her mind keeps wandering back to her mother, and the shadowy form Caine had manifested of her. Ragatha had been away from home so long she had forgotten her face. She'd thought that meant she was safe. Funny, to be so wrong about that.
"Ragatha?" Pomni's voice cuts through the chaos of her mind, but just barely. "Are… you okay?"
Ragatha opens her mouth. She wants to tell Pomni that she's fine, and there's no reason to worry about her when the circus clearly takes priority. It's selfish of her to take up their time when their world is literally falling apart underneath them. She knows that, and yet what comes out of her mouth is—
"Mama killed me with knives."
Ragatha immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, embarrassed by the immaturity of the statement, and the childish tone her voice had taken. She can tell everyone's looking at her now, and Ragatha doesn't know what else to say. She has a desperate need to let everyone know she's in control of this situation, but no matter how hard she pushes, the cloud slowly covering her brain won't go away.
"Yeah." Jax snorts. "Moms'll do that."
"Jax," Zooble says, nudging him, but Ragatha's just relieved that he's making her statement sound so normal.
"Is that what you saw?" Pomni asks slowly. "When Caine—"
Pomni cuts herself off suddenly and glances at Ragatha, like she's worried she's stepped too far. Ragatha begins to fiddle with the fabric of her dress.
"Sorry," she whispers, still childishly. Pomni takes one of Ragatha's hands and clasps it with both of her own.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," Pomni insists warmly. "I—I'm sure we're all still a little shaken up. It's been a long day. Do you want to check if our rooms are still there?"
Ragatha nods. That sounds like something she can do to help the others. She likes that. She doesn't want them to think she's useless, even if she'd rather be snuggled tight to one of the stuffed animals in her room right now.
"Are you sure we should be splitting up right now…?" Zooble turns to Kinger.
"Just for a minute," Pomni says. "It'll be fine if we're together. Besides, we're… going to have to deal with that eventually, right?"
Kinger looks at Ragatha, then back at Pomni. Ragatha tries to hide her face in her hair. It feels like he sees right through her and it terrifies her.
"Just be careful," Kinger says. "And come right back."
Pomni nods.
"Hey, Rags." Ragatha lifts her head in time to watch Jax tap her shoulder with the side of his fist. "There. Now you've got all your anti-mom shots."
"Jax…" The absurdity of the statement makes her giggle.
"What? Don't believe they're a thing?" he grins. "See if you encounter any moms while you're gone. Trust me."
If she was more aware of herself, Ragatha would accuse him of making fun of her. But right now, with her adrenaline still running high, all she can think about is how she hopes Jax has his shots, too, because Mama always hated wild rabbits. She used to call them vermin, and set their dogs on them whenever she saw them in their yard. She probably would have told her father to shoot at them, too, but he insisted they weren't worth the bullets.
"Okay," Ragatha says. "You be safe, too."
Jax blinks. Ragatha turns back to Pomni and tugs on her hand to show she's ready to start walking.
Ragatha has always had a tendency to get stuck in her own head. The other members of the circus are no stranger to her catastrophizing, but this particular habit of her's hadn't shown itself for a while. It's hard for her to push down the urge to swing her arms, but she thinks it might kill her if she embarrasses herself in front of Pomni. She doesn't know why she thinks such a childish thing would make her feel better right now. She knows her mama would have hated it, seeing her acting like she hasn't got a care in the world when she's supposed to be a lady. But Mama isn't here, and Jax promised she wouldn't come back, so maybe it's okay to do something Mama wouldn't like, if it's a little thing.
"Do you… want to talk about it?" Pomni offers carefully. Ragatha blinks. What more is there to say? Mama killed her with knives. She'd gone after all her siblings first, to make Ragatha feel even worse, because it meant she hadn't protected them, and what was the point of being a big sister, if she couldn't even do that? What was the point of even being big at all?
Ragatha touches the button on her face.
"Mama took my eye away from me," she says. "She was fighting with my brother, 'cuz he didn't want to get dressed up for church and I felt really bad, since he was so little so I stepped in and she scratched me. Then she punished both of us, and she didn't listen when I said my eye was getting really puffy and bad because she thought I was trying to be a bad girl again."
"The cut got infected?" Pomni guesses. Ragatha nods, glad her ramblings haven't turned into complete nonsense.
"I got a fever," she says. "It got really bad. And then I woke up in the hospital and the doctor said they had to take it away."
Her mother had found plenty of ways to hide the injury throughout the years. Constantly buying new prosthetics and forcing Ragatha to wear them to hide the "ugliness" of the pain she had caused. She'd spend ages styling Ragatha's hair in family photos, having her bangs cover one side of her face, or making sure to pose her carefully to the side, all to avoid anyone finding a crack in their image of a perfect family. Eventually, they just stopped taking photos of her at all.
"I'm sorry." Pomni's mouth is upside-down, but Ragatha doesn't feel sad. She feels a little far away from her body, as though she's supposed to be Pomni's size and everything else on her is just extra stuffing. "That… couldn't have been easy. Did you…"
Pomni trails off and stares at Ragatha, studying her for something Ragatha doesn't understand.
"Are you going to be upset you told me this later?" Pomni asks. "Oh, watch out!"
The second part had been because Ragatha had gotten a bit too close to one of the holes. Pomni tugs them closer together. Ragatha squeezes her hand. It's nice to have someone watching out for her. Even if she had wanted to be the one to protected Pomni instead of… whatever this is now.
"I dunnooooo," Ragatha says, stretching the word simply because it feels good on her mouth. It's a childish thing, but she's finding it harder to care. It's Pomni's fault for being so encouraging. If she was alone, Ragatha would pull on her hair in an attempt to fight against the fog covering her brain, but Ragatha doesn't think Pomni would like that, so she refrains. "Everyone outside always asked me about it. I couldn't look at my face without thinking about her, till I got in here. I liked my button. I could pretend it was just me. Then Mama stabbed it."
"I'm sorry," Pomni says.
"She was going to feed us centipedes," Ragatha says. She knows her mother well enough to know what was going to happen next. Once she was pinned to the table, it would be time for dinner, and Ragatha would have to swallow down all her discomfort and pain and smile and thank her for all her hard work, as if there wasn't a reason Mama usually left cooking to someone else.
"Yikes," Pomni says and her genuine disgust makes Ragatha laugh. They've reached the rooms now, so Pomni opens her door and breathes a sigh of relief.
"It looks normal," she says. "Maybe because Caine made it a space he wasn't supposed to go into? I don't know. Do you—Do you want to go to your room now?"
Ragatha nods. When they get there, Pomni finally lets go of Ragatha's hand and hops down on the bed, then motions for Ragatha to do the same. Ragatha does.
"Okay," Pomni says. "What do you need right now?"
The question comes as such a surprise, all Ragatha can do is stare.
"You had a bad day," Pomni tells Ragatha. It's a statement, not a question. "What would make you feel better?"
"Um…" Ragatha fiddles with her dress. What she really wants is to be in Pomni's lap, having the other girl pet her head and tell her everything will be okay, but she knows how foolish that would look, her trying to hide behind a girl who's only half her size. She's supposed to be better than this. She should have conquered this weakness of hers by now. "Can I… have a hug?"
She remembers only after the words leave her mouth that Pomni's not a fan of touch, but the girl wraps her arms around Ragatha without hesitation. Ragatha takes a moment to hug back. She hadn't expected her request to be fulfilled so quickly.
"I'm sorry your mother did that to you," Pomni says softly. "You didn't deserve it."
"But I was a bad girl," Ragatha protests. The response is so automatic she might as well have been trained to say it. Pomni squeezes her tighter.
"You weren't," she says, firm. As though she was there to see it. As though she knows every time Mama looked at her and prayed for a better daughter. When Pomni says it like that, it almost feels like there's no room for discussion.
"Oh," Ragatha says. "Okay."
Time starts to blur. She has a vague notion that the door to her room opens again, but she can't remember if she leaves with Pomni, or if she's left waiting. What she does know is the others come back with her, deciding they're safest if they stay together.
"Are you feeling better, Ragatha?" Gangle asks her, pressing one of her ribbons to Ragatha's forehead. Ragatha doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods and squeezes the horse plushie that had at some point been tucked into her arms.
"Here." Jax thrusts a cup of tea out towards her. "This is what you drink when you're depressed, isn't it?"
Ragatha blinks and takes it. He climbs onto her bed and walks off, moving to the corner of her room and covering himself with a blanket that had clearly come from his room. It makes him look a bit like a sulking child, but that's usually how she thinks Jax looks, so she doesn't pay any mind.
And the tea is what she drinks when she's sad. It's chamomile with milk and a big dollop of honey, because getting ready for bed doesn't mean you can't have something sweet—exactly how her nanny used to make it for her. Ragatha can't remember when she told him that. Maybe Kaufmo or Ribbit had mentioned it? She pushes the thought away. She'd rather not think about them right now.
"Thank you," Ragatha whispers.
"You like it?" Gangle asks, a bit surprised. Ragatha nods and fiddles with the cup.
"Stop looking at me like that," Jax demands. It's directed mostly at Zooble.
"I'm just—" Zooble begins. They shake their head. "Glad you're not being a jerk about this, I guess."
"Even I have limits." Jax rolls his eyes. "I only kick puppies if it's funny."
"I wouldn't call kicking puppies very funny," Pomni says dryly.
"Because you don't know how to do it right," Jax shoots back. "It's an art."
Jax tosses a pillow at Kinger before the conversation can continue.
"You should tell us a story," he says.
"I should?" Kinger says.
"Is this some bad joke about Kinger being the oldest?" Zooble asks.
"Raggy's tucked into bed all cozy," Jax says. "Now she needs her story."
"I take back what I said about you not being a jerk."
"Thank you!"
Ragatha finishes her tea and hands it to Pomni, who sets it down on a table near her bed. She can't remember if anyone's ever read her a bedtime story before. Her nanny usually didn't spend the night, so she wouldn't have had the opportunity to. Her mother certainly wouldn't have. And Ragatha had been the one to read to her siblings, not the other way around.
"I'll tell you a story if you want one, Jax," Kinger says, genuine. Jax sputters in response. Ragatha smiles and closes her eyes. All the adrenaline has left her body now and with Pomni petting her head, sleep is sneaking up on her fast.
Pomni's speaking to someone, Ragatha thinks. She's using a soft voice to avoid waking Ragatha, who's only aware enough to catch snippets of the conversation.
"Never seen her like this before… some kind of flashback…"
"Only told me a little…"
"Must have had it rough…"
She's a child falling asleep in the backseat while the adults talk around her. Only now, no one's talking about how she should have run faster on the field or that she was too gentle with her horses for them to ever respect her or any other mean thing her mama had told her.
She's safe now. She knows it.
"She'll be okay. Just let her rest."