AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is an old fic, set nebulously around Season 2 though it doesn't technically fit in the timeline canon-wise for that year's autumn break. Recently a friend of mine (lemonsdarling on FFN!) read what I had written of it ages ago from what would have been a bittersweet little Halloween story, and she suggested I rework the parts I already had completed into a one- or two-shot that would stand well alone as a character study.

And I decided to go ahead and do it, because poor Jérémie does terrible things to his own well-being to keep the war on XANA in hand if only so Aelita doesn't have to. And there can never be enough fic about that.


Toussaint. All Saints' Day. Half-term holiday. The bane of his existence. The day after tomorrow.

Jérémie Belpois paced the length of his dorm room at Kadic Academy for what felt like the hundredth time in one evening. Details and logistics raced through his mind at a hundred kilometers a minute: half-coherent strings of code for Aelita's anti-virus, obsessive speculation on XANA's next move, and of course, the dratted Toussaint.

A dozen or so bags of unopened candy sat on his bed. He glanced at them occasionally, frowning, but then returned to his thoughts. Had he really planned out everything for the vacation? What if something went wrong?

It was getting harder and harder to plan around school holidays, but, just barely, all of them had figured out a way to stay near the Factory in the case of a XANA attack. After a bit of needling, Yumi's parents had agreed to take in Aelita for the ten-day break. Odd had just barely managed to convince his family that it was a waste of time buying airplane tickets when the weather was liable to cancel his flight anyway. At the other end of the spectrum, Ulrich's parents had point-blank refused to let him come home to enjoy the holidays with his grades in their sorry state.

Jérémie looked toward the candy again. The packaging was gaudy, covered in pumpkins and vampires, mocking him with their festivity. The cashier hadn't so much as blinked at his purchase—he could have been just another teenager preparing for a Halloween party. He didn't recognize most of the selections, but Odd had assured him they were his own personal favorites. Jérémie suspected that the taste didn't matter, since he probably wouldn't ever be able to enjoy those particular brands of sweets again after tonight.

He sighed, sitting down on the bed and putting his face in his hands. Was he really going to do this? His parents were probably already making plans for what they would do once he was home tomorrow evening. When he was supposed to be home tomorrow evening.

Soon, he thought, with a pang of homesickness. He hadn't seen his mother and father in what felt like years. Just as soon as we can shut down the supercomputer for good. Just as soon as we defeat XANA once and for all. Please, forgive me.

Face grim, Jérémie reached down for the first bag of candy and began to eat.

"…I'm sorry, sir, I really am; I just don't think your son's going to be able to travel in his, uh, current condition," Jim mumbled apologetically into the phone. "Trust me, he doesn't need to be anywhere near a moving vehicle right now."

Jérémie didn't hear him. His head was still buried in the infirmary's trash bin just as it had been since the early morning. It had taken all his strength and willpower to get there from his room, and he'd had to carry a bag to vomit in along the way. His entire frame shook from weakness and exhaustion.

Ulrich rubbed his back sympathetically, muttering, "Hey. C'mon, you're going to be okay." He and Odd had come to visit Jérémie between classes and were now taking turns hovering over him, looking equal parts awed and revolted.

Jérémie managed to pull his face out of the bin long enough to glare at him, although his vision was blurred with involuntary tears. He'd barely slept the night before, and what little rest he'd managed had been plagued by stabbing pains in his stomach and terrible nightmares. "Do I look okay to you?" he snapped.

Ulrich shrugged, looking sheepish. In the background, Jim still paced near the infirmary's desk awkwardly, twirling the phone cord in one hand and explaining to Jérémie's father why his son wouldn't be able to leave the school for the start of the All Saints' holiday:

"…Probably not for a few days at least. That's what the nurse said, anyway. Looks like food poisoning to me—I've actually got a bit of experience on the subject; I used to be a professional food tester back in the day…"

Odd leaned forward, giving Jérémie a grin, speaking in a whisper. "Way to take one for the team, Einstein. Me, I would have just faked it like I do in Mrs. Hertz's class."

Jérémie began to shake his head, then thought better of it, retching and leaning into the bin again while his friends made disgusted faces. Gasping, he emerged, saying, "Wouldn't work. I've skipped class so many times this year that Yolande would never believe I was sick unless she could see it with her own eyes."

"Well, you got what you wanted, huh?" said Ulrich quietly. "Assuming you could even get to the factory like this."

Jérémie was gripping the sides of the trash bin so hard his knuckles had turned white. He felt on the verge of passing out. Dark shapes swam at the edges of his vision, the same shapes that had haunted his nightmares the night before. Forcing it back, he turned to his friends with a strained grin. "Who, me? Piece of cake."

"At least you got a head start on the Halloween celebrations," said Odd, looking entirely too cheerful. "Just think! We'll have the whole school to ourselves. What could be scarier, right? This is gonna be a total blast!"

"Don't talk to me about Halloween," said Jérémie firmly, heaving into the bin again. Ulrich and Odd took it as their cue to leave.