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Vox was about six years old the first time he saw a shark.

It was one of his only childhood memories that he could recall this vividly.

He had been on a boat with his parents and his older sister, along with a few of his parents friends and their children.

His older sister, Clara, was supposed to be watching him. But she wasn't very good at it, perhaps because she was only a few years older.

When Clara had starting playing with some of the other children, he had managed to pull away from the tight grasp on his hand and found his way to the edge of the boat.

Vox remembers his father always telling him never to lean over the edge. But Vox wasn't never one to do what people told him, even as a child. Wanting to have a closer look at the waves, he had leaned over the edge and just didn't have enough balance to keep himself off the boat. Before he knew it, he'd tipped forward and fell into the water.

Vox hadn't panicked or tried to swim to the surface like most would. No- he was fascinted, staring at all around him like he wasn't actively running out of oxygen. It was nothing he'd ever seen or felt before in his life, and this wave of almost lightness had come to him.

He remembers just sinking slowly as he took it all in when he saw something swimming towards him. He hadn't been scared at all, only becoming more in awe. It was a shark, he'd later learn. It wasn't one that was thought of when most people think of a shark, but it wasn't aggressive. No, the wide mouthed shark just swam by him calmly, slightly nudging aganist him before beginning to swim in circles around him.

He had just been looking at the shark and other creatures when he sees someone jump into the water after him, and before he had known it he'd been pulled to the service, and suddenly remembers that he actually had to breathe to live and gasps and coughs as he's handed over to his mother.

Vox remembers barely being able to hear his parents over his own heart pounding and his own gasps, but he remembers his sister being scolded.

"Clara, you were supposed to be watching her!" Their father had scolded.

"I had only looked away for a moment," Clara insists, her lower lip trembling.

Vox doesn't remember the rest of that conversation, but he does remember longing to go back to the ocean since that day.

Vox hated that goddamn door.

He's spent days- maybe even weeks, laying on the cold floor. The door is unlocked, but he can't get up and open it. Even if he could, Alastor would probably stop him before he even touched the doorknob.

It was all just a game to Alastor, wasn't it? Vox knew he was a sick motherfucker, but he didn't think he'd ever do something like this, not to Vox.

Vox wasn't going to give Alastor the luxury of seeing him break, no matter what happened. But at the same time, Vox was so tired, no matter how much he slept. And Vox slept a lot, considering he didn't have much else to do.

Vox had thought that Alastor wouldn't come today. He thought Alastor had a pattern, a schedule for which days he would come and which days he wouldn't. But today was different. Maybe Alastor caught on, and wanted to take away this slight normalcy away like he had everything else.

He's almost about to succumb to exhaustion again, when he suddenly hears the door open, nearly scaring his heart out of his chest.

"How's my favorite captive doing today?" Alastor says in a sing-song voice, like this was a normal question to ask.

Vox narrows his eyes at Alastor, clearly unimpressed.

Alastor huffs at him, his smile narrowing slightly. "Oh, don't be such a bore. You'll get used to it eventually," He says, tapping Vox's head firmly.

Nothing Vox could say or do was going to change this. He'd been trying to send out distress signals for days, but either the other Vees weren't trying to find him, or they weren't able to track him for whatever reason. He didn't know which was worse.

He had learned a few days ago that crying, screaming, and fighting did nothing but exhaust him further. Alastor probably got a sick thrill out of that.

Vox's neck hurts. His head hurts. God, his everything hurts. He just wants to go home. Even if it meant crawling back on all fours, losing what was left of his dignity. He doesn't even remember how Alastor got him here. He must've knocked him out- Vox would've only gone kicking and screaming otherwise. But Vox doesn't remember how that happened, which only managed to upset him worse than he already was.

He never thought Alastor would stoop this low. Not to him, at least.

Vox was getting better. He was trying so hard not to think about Alastor, and he was doing so well. He had even opened up to Velvette and Valentino about it, and he was actually talking to them instead of at them. And then Alastor just had to go and ruin all his progress. Typical.

They were supposed to start fresh. Vox had stayed away from the public for a few months, and he had finally been ready to go back out again.

Except, the morning that he's supposed to do exactly that..

Valentino should've realized something was wrong. Vox had been more clingy than usual, but Valentino thought that maybe it was nerves or maybe he was just tired. He had also gone to bed earlier than normal, but Valentino hadn't thought much of it, even when he noticed how unusually deep Vox was sleeping.

The next morning, Valentino starts his day like any other. Vox was still asleep, but he had been sleeping a little longer than he did before the incident, so it slips Valentino's mind quickly.

But then Velvette comments on it too. "Shouldn't he be up by now?" She asks. "It's almost 8:30."

…Huh. Valentino hadn't realized how long Vox had slept in. But sleeping in at all, not even mentioning sleeping in this long, wasn't like him.

Valentino stands from his chair with a sigh. "I'll go check on him,"

Valentino didn't know what he expected to find when he went back to their bedroom.

For some reason, some part of him was slightly relieved that Vox was only sleeping. Sure, Vox had seemed fine on the surface, but he knew Vox has buried his feelings and hid stuff from them on the past, so Valentino wouldn't be surprised if something was wrong.

Valentino walks over to him and leans over to kiss his head when he feels how overly warm Vox is. Well, that was weird. Vox didn't get sick very often, but when he did, it hit him hard.

Valentino walks to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and rummages for the thermometer. While he could tell that Vox probably had a fever from how hot his forehead felt alone, Valentino couldn't tell how high it was exactly.

After a few minutes of cursing the disorganization of their bathroom, Valentino returns with the thermometer in hand. He sits on the edge of the bed and gently rouses Vox. "Just wake up for a second, baby..I need to check your temperature," Valentino coaxes.

Vox lets out a sleepy grumble at first, clumsily pushing Valentino's hands away before finally letting Valentino stick the thermometer under his tongue, watching Valentino with bleary, half-lidded eyes.

Valentino lets out a soft sound at how miserable Vox looks, gently cupping the corner of Vox's face. "Almost done," He promises.

The thermometer beeps, making Vox, who was beginning to doze off already, jump at the noise. Valentino gently shushes him, looking at the reading on the screen.

102, not the worst fever he's Vox ever had, but not great either. Silently, Valentino returns to the bathroom and gets Vox a dose of ibuprofen and water. He isn't entirely surprised when Vox is already asleep again by the time he returns.

After another minute of trying to wake Vox up and then getting him to take the medicine, Valentino finally lays Vox back down before going to update Velvette.

"He was running a fever, Vel," Valentino announces. "I think he's going to be sleeping most of the day, he could barely keep his eyes open."

Caine had to teach them a lesson. Just one, and then they could all get along again once they understood all of it. All of what they put him through, all of what he had to fight through to become what he was now.

He tried so hard to understand them, but they never tried to understand him. He would make them.

Maybe it would hurt all of them. But sometimes, you had to break things to make them better, didn't you? He could fix this…He had to fix this.

Caine isn't able to understand that he's just hurting them more. That he's just making them angrier at him. But they never understood when they were hurting him.

Caine submerges the circus in pitch black, isolating each member, no one able to cry for help or look for the others. Maybe this way, they'd know what he'd been through and maybe be nicer to him. Maybe even apologize.

But eventually he stops doing it to make them understand, some part of him just wanting them to hurt. Hurt like they made him hurt. It was only fair.

Caine's eyes are wild by the time he thinks it's enough, and eventually the lights click back on.

Caine doesn't need to breathe exactly, but he's breathing heavily as he stares at them, every single one looking at him like he's a monster. He's not a monster. They are. They started this.

Valentino was still in denial of Vox dying, even after he had died in Valentino's arms. Yes, he was aware that Vox was dead and gone. But some part of him would wake up in their cold bed in the middle of the night and still expect him to be there.

Valentino clutches Vox's favorite stuffed shark to his chest, the well-loved plush still smelling like Vox. God, he misses him so much.

Everything was way too quiet with him gone, and Valentino hated it. From the moment that Vox took his last breath, Valentino hadn't stopped thinking about him. Was he scared? Was he even lucid enough to know what was happening?

Valentino hadn't yet fully grasped the fact that he would never see Vox again. Vox had always been so stubborn, it didn't make sense to Valentino that he would just die like that. But he did.

Velvette had isolated herself, clearly taking the loss just as hard as Valentino was.

Valentino stares at the ceiling. Vox's absence was so loud it almost hurt, and Valentino felt it deeply.

He had fought so hard to keep Vox from spiraling before, just for a awful bioweapon to take Vox out. It was a sick kind of irony that once he finally got Vox to have a will to live, Vox got sick.

Vox had tried to hide it from them, maybe to spare their feelings, or maybe to try and keep from getting them sick.

This thought makes a fresh wave of tears come to Valentino's eyes, and he shuts his eyes tight. His poor Vox, sick with a disease that was killing his body and still trying to keep them safe. He knew Vox wasn't a perfect person, but he didn't deserve this.

Husk was a stupid, selfless idiot. Angel had been sitting at his bedside for a few hours now, Husk so wrapped in bandages that Angel could just barely see his fur.

Angel hates how Husk thinks he needs to protect everyone, but seems to think that no one can- or should - protect him.

Husk hadn't shown any signs of waking up soon, but Angel hopes it's soon. The longer Husk stays unconscious, the more worried Angel gets.

"He was hurt really bad, Angel. His body needs time to rest so he can recover," Charlie had said to him as she changed Husk's bandages, Husk so limp it made Angel feel sick.

Husk was never still, whether his tail was lashing when someone irritated to him, or his ears twitching as he listened to someone talk. But right now, he was completely still, fully at the mercy of who was caring for him.

Vaggie wanted Angel to get some sleep. It's been a long few days, and everyone is exhausted. But Angel can't leave the room until Husk wakes up, in fear of Husk waking up alone.

It has to happen sometime soon, right? Husk has been out for almost three whole days already, and Angel has to admit that he's definitely fallen asleep in the chair by his bedside a few times.

Angel is beginning to doze off again, exhausted to his core, when he hears a soft grunt come from Husk. Angel immediately jumps awake- Husk hasn't made any noise other than maybe a snore since he got hurt.

He takes Husk's hand in his, squeezing it tightly. Husk isn't quite fully awake, but his eyes are scrunching up and his ears are pinned to his head. Angel doesn't doubt that waking up after being out for so long is disorienting.

"Husk?" Angel calls out softly, trying to see if he's really waking up or just stirring.

Husk lets out a grunt, open one eye like it weighs a hundred tons. "Ang'l?" He mutters, still out of it.

"Hey, whiskers. Welcome back," Angel murmurs.

Husk makes a confused noise, clearly not remembering what happened or how he got here.

Angel shifts in his seat with a sigh. "You don't remember, huh?" He asks gently.

Husk shakes his head.

"I figured. It was…a lot." Angel says, and wasn't that truly the understatement of the year.

Husk tries to sit up, and Angel immediately puts a stop to that, gently pushing him back down. Husk lets out a weak noise of protest, but doesn't fight back any further.

"Whoa, none of that. Not yet," Angel scolds lightheartedly, squeezing Husk's hand. "You can't even talk, and you're already trying to get out of bed?"

"Al-" Husk begins raspily, and Angel realizes he's worried about Alastor being angry at him for not working.

"Don't worry about him, Husk. Vaggie's not going to let him get on your case," Angel reassures him.

Husk seems to relax a little, but still looks worried.

Valentino had come to Velvette for a new outfit. This wasn't really anything new, and Velvette hadn't expected him to be so picky about it.

"No, not that one. It just doesn't look right," Valentino mutters.

Velvette groans and tosses the clothing to the side. "What is your issue today, Val? You're never this fussy about clothes. A lot of other things? Sure. But clothes?" Velvette says. "It's just..Velvette, this is for something important. It needs to look perfect," Valentino sighs.

"Everything I make is perfect." Velvette retorts, offended that he would even imply otherwise.

"..I know, I know. But I need this to go right, and I need to look right." Valentino says.

This makes Velvette raise an eyebrow, tilting her head. "What is this even for, anyway? Maybe it'd help if I knew what occasion I was making this for."

Valentino fidgets nervously. "You have to promise not to tell Vox before I tell you,"

Now Velvette's even more curious. "Okay, whatever, I promise. Now tell me," She demands.

Valentino stays silent for a few more seconds before pulling something out of his pocket. Velvette's eyebrows nearly go off her head as she sees a engagement ring box in his hands.

"You're proposing to Vox?" Velvette asks, almost giddy.

Valentino nods, a soft smile coming across his face now. "I thought it was time for it. I just..I need everything to go perfectly,"