Note: Warnings for this chapter - references to the off-screen death of a child and references to underage drinking (both have been touched on in Yumi and Ulrich's Lists, so nothing new there if you've read those).

15. After the first Loss he promised he would never let it happen again (he hates failing).

Jeremie is twelve years old the first time he kills someone.

He tells himself that isn't true. He tells himself to listen to Odd, that the other boy is right. Yumi's eyes tell a different story, haunted and dark they dart away from him, skitter past like he's a childhood boogeyman. Ulrich never outright says what's on his mind. He doesn't have to, his silence is judgement enough.

Jeremie is twelve and still naïve enough to believe he can change the world.

. . … . .

Jeremie breathes a sigh of relief, lets himself sink back against the computer chair in relief. Despite Odd's antics on Lyoko, they had done it. They had gotten Aelita to the tower and stopped another of XANA's attacks. Jeremie types in the command for the Return code, hits enter.

And waits.

He frowns. Usually the Return is pretty instantaneous. Defeat the monsters, deactivate the tower, type in the command, click return, and act like they weren't reliving another day. This time there's a delay.

He notices the command window that has popped up and frowns, clicking into the window.

Invalid Request. ERROR 47. Biological Irregularity Detected.

Jeremie blinks at the screen. He pulls his glasses off, cleans them on the end of his sweater, replaces them. The words are still there. Biological irregularity detected? He puzzles over the words, clicks the small question mark in the corner of the window for more information.

Command request could not be completed due to direct loss of sustained biological life. If you believe you have received this message in error…

"Yo, Einstein!" Odd's voice sounds over the speakers. Jeremie jerks in surprise. "You gonna beam us back up?"

He hears Ulrich snort. "Stop daydreaming about homework."

Jeremie scrambles for the microphone, frowning at the computer screen. "Right, right, sorry. And I was not dreaming about homework."

"Yeah, right. Just remember Hertz had that surprise test today, so set the Return for after that, okay?" Odd's voice chirps.

Jeremie tunes him out, types in the key for devirtualization, and focuses on the problem at hand. He pulls up a web browser and checks the news articles. Surely the computer can't be saying… He lets the thought trail off, staring at the screen in horror.

/

"You cut it a little sharp there at the end, goofing off like that," Yumi's voice carries.

"Nah. I'm ace with timing. Don't be so uptight, Yumi. You have to put on a bit of show, otherwise where's the fun?" Odd counters.

"It isn't supposed to be fun!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're starting to sound like Einstein."

Jeremie becomes aware of their voices slowly, like waking from a dream. The news articles are still up, filling one portion of the supercomputer's screen. Jeremie has to tear his gaze away from it. He listens as his friends approach, lets his head fall into his hands. He isn't sure how everything could have gone so spectacularly wrong in such a short amount of time.

"When do you think we set back to?" Ulrich asks. Their footsteps are loud in the hallway from the elevator to the supercomputer room. "We're still at the factory."

"Don't know, we'll ask Einstein, hopefully it was after Hertz's test. Hey, Einstein—!"

Jeremie lifts his head, looks at his three friends. Yumi's face is pale, her eyes concerned. Odd's still grinning. Ulrich's face is impassive.

"What happened?" Yumi questions. "Why didn't you do a Return?"

Jeremie lets his hands fall into his lap, twists his fingers together out of view of the others. He takes a breath, lets it out slowly. Odd's smile dims, Ulrich's eyebrows knit together.

"It seems there are certain parameters built into the Returns that I wasn't aware of before." He clears his throat, reaches a hand up to adjust his glasses. He's proud that his fingers aren't trembling.

"What type of parameters?" Ulrich questions. His arms cross over his chest.

"There was a biological irregularity." Odd blinks at him. Jeremie gestures at the screen in front of him, still showing highlights of the attack. The attack no one should know about because they should have been able to do a Return. "The life forms have to match up, between now and before. If…if they don't, then we can't Return. We're stuck."

"Life forms have to match?" Odd repeats, voice duller than usual.

"People," Ulrich says. Jeremie can't read the expression on his face. "Someone died."

Yumi lets out a little cry and her hand comes up over her mouth. "We were too slow," she says. "Who?" Jeremie's lips press together and Yumi's eyes narrow.

"Come on, guys," Odd tries. "This wasn't our fault. We were the ones stopping it."

"Who did we kill?" Yumi presses.

"Phillippe Dumas." He takes a breath. "Six years old."

Yumi kicks a piece of broken machinery. The sound echoes in the sudden silence of the factory.

/

Jeremie doesn't like the cemetery. It's a stereotypical gray day and there's a fine mist falling around them. Odd had suggested attending the funeral, slipping in and sitting in the back pew, maybe bringing a bouquet of flowers. Jeremie had put his foot down.

Ulrich was the one to suggest the cemetery. They could pretend to be visiting another grave while offering their silent respects to the boy. Jeremie hadn't been thrilled, it was too risky. What if someone approached them? What if the person's family showed up and asked why they were milling around their loved one's grave? More irrationally, what if someone realized it was their fault Phillippe Dumas was dead?

He had compromised though, agreeing with Ulrich that the cemetery was a safe alternative. He hadn't spoken to Yumi in days, but Ulrich assured him she would meet them at the cemetery. He wasn't sure if he was apprehensive or relieved at the news.

At ten-thirty Yumi shows up, half-hidden beneath an oversized black umbrella. Jeremie offers her a tiny smile. She doesn't punch him, which is encouraging, but she doesn't return the smile either. He thinks maybe smiling in a graveyard might be a mistake. Odd takes his spot next to Jeremie, gives him a sympathetic look.

"It wasn't your fault, Einstein," he says. The nickname sounds mocking now.

"It wasn't," Jeremie agrees, eyes fixed on the tableau of mourners around the small graveside. He makes himself listen to the mother's cries, forces himself to focus on the family's tears and misery. He was responsible for this. Because he had been too cocky. Because they had been too slow. Because they were young and foolish and thought they were invincible. We caused this, he thinks and promises himself it won't happen again.

/

Jeremie takes a seat next to Yumi on the bench out front of the administration building. As usual Ulrich and Odd are running late. Jeremie opens his laptop, balances it on his knees, and begins reviewing the coding he'd been working on the night before. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Yumi stretch. He lifts his gaze and his eyes catch on the black ink decorating the inside of her wrist. He blinks.

"What's that?"

"You know what it is," she replies. He wonders if she means for her voice to sound that sharp.

"You shouldn't have that. People might know…might wonder…" He trails off, glances around at the students heading toward the cafeteria for breakfast.

"They won't." Her voice is stern, finite, end-of-discussion. He feels himself bristle instinctively.

"Yumi, it's dangerous. We all regret what happened…you know that. But to have a reminder…you shouldn't have it there."

"Jeremie," she says. There's a hitch in her voice and he looks up to meet her eyes. They still look haunted by their failure. "Jeremie, it's something I have to do. No one will know. I won't tell anyone."

He studies her quietly. There's still a tension between them and he misses the easy friendship they'd just started falling into. He doesn't like having to be cautious with his words. He doesn't like the way she looks away from him as though she can't face what he allowed to happen. He studies the ink on her arm again, half-hidden by the sleeve of her shirt.

P. D. 3/1/04

It stands out stark along her pale skin and the faint blue veins of her forearm. Jeremie wants to shrink away from the black writing. He forces himself to take a breath.

"Alright," he says. He turns back to the laptop screen, feels Yumi relax against the bench next to him. He resolutely refuses to look at the ink staining her arm.

. . … . .

"Einstein, come on, this isn't healthy."

Jeremie looks up, focuses tired eyes on the blonde boy standing in the doorway. He shifts his notebook to the side and blinks at Odd.

"We won, we got Aelita out of you-know-who's grasp," Odd continues. He steps into the room, hands in his pockets.

Jeremie snorts. "Right," he says. He taps his pen against his mouse absently. "Last I checked XANA was still causing mayhem and our ability to use a Return has been severely compromised…"

"Yeah, I know that," Odd interrupts. He leans against the door to Jeremie's room and stares at Jeremie. "So, we hit a setback, it isn't the first and it won't be the last." He waves a hand dismissively before crossing his arms. "Your big brain and Princess's big brain are sure to be a match for XANA eventually."

Jeremie sighs, reaches up to rub at his temples. He has a headache. He can't remember when he last ate, maybe lunch? Breakfast? He's been preoccupied, but he's sure he at least had breakfast. "What do you need, Odd?"

"I just don't get why we went through so much shit to bring Aelita here and you hole yourself up in here instead of actually spending time with her."

Jeremie glowers at the other boy. He can feel the heat creeping up his neck, his face flushing from annoyance. He doesn't understand why his friends don't get it. "Maybe because I want to make sure we can keep her here!" he exclaims. "She's here now, but for how long, Odd? As long as XANA is still active then we risk losing her. I promised I wouldn't lose anyone else and I refuse to let it be Aelita."

Odd looks startled, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He takes a moment, closes his mouth and shifts so his hands are back in his pockets. He shakes his head, hair bobbing slightly with the movement. "If this is about before…that wasn't your fault, Einstein. No one could have anticipated that."

Jeremie turns back to the computer screen, hoping Odd gets the hint and leaves. "If I'm as smart as you think I am then I should have."

There's silence for another minute, then he hears the door open. He's only a little disappointed that Odd stopped arguing.

. . … . .

Aelita's laugh is the first thing he hears. It's bright and vibrant and a complete contrast to what he's feeling. He looks up as the doors slide open. The girls are on either side of Odd, arms wrapped around his waist while he has his own thrown over their shoulders. It looks careless but Jeremie would bet good money that Odd's still feeling the effects of the trip to Sector Five.

They're all laughing, all teasing and joking and Yumi is rolling her eyes at whatever inane thing Odd's said. Yumi's eyes lift, meet his across the room. He feels his stomach plummet like he took the express elevator down. He swallows hard.

ERROR 47 flashes on the screen in front of him.

"We can't go back," he states. He keeps his voice crisp, clinical. He swallows any emotions trying to surface.

Yumi comes to a sudden stop and Odd stumbles to a stop next to her. They know. They realize.

"What? Why?" Aelita questions. She looks around at them all and Jeremie sees her fingers clutch at Odd's shirt. His stomach twists again and he turns back to the computer screen. He doesn't want to see the realization when it hits, he can't stand to see the disappointment, the disgust, in her eyes. "Who?" she demands.

"The conductor," Jeremie replies. He focuses on the news network filming the train crash. The front of the train is crumpled into the steel girders of a bridge. Jeremie feels sick, watching, but he can't tear his eyes away from it. "We…we can't, it's impossible."

"We were too slow," Yumi states. Her voice is strangely calm and it draws Jeremie's eyes back to his three friends.

Aelita has slumped to the ground, hand still clutched in Odd's shirt and pulling him down with her. Tears run freely down her face and he wants to get up, to go to her, to reassure her that it's okay. They survived this once, they can do it again. Instead, he watches as Odd's arm comes around her shoulders, pulls her in so that her face is hidden against his shoulder. Jeremie waits for the twist of jealousy to stab through him but for once it doesn't.

"We were too goddamn slow!" Yumi screams suddenly. She kicks a pile of scrap metal across the floor and Jeremie jerks back in surprise. He looks away, back to the computer screen, listening as the echoing clangs briefly down out Aelita's sobs.

Eventually, Odd clears his throat. "Well, who tells Ulrich?"

/

"You shouldn't be here," Jeremie states. Ulrich gives a low laugh. It isn't pleasant; it's a dark, wet choking sound. Like a collapsed lung. Jeremie pushes the thought from his head. "Seriously."

"Neither should you," Ulrich replies. The other boy is sprawled across a clean patch of floor where they'd dragged in bean bag chairs. He's slouched into one, bottle of something amber and strong-smelling in his hand.

Jeremie wrinkles his nose in distaste. "You shouldn't be drinking in here either. Or at all." He turns on the supercomputer, waits as it boots up.

"Want some?" There's a slur to Ulrich's words and Jeremie can hear the German accent more now. Ulrich gives another low laugh and scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."

Jeremie blinks at him, sighs as the supercomputer whirrs through it's opening system checks. "What for?" he asks cautiously.

"It was my fault. The conductor. What's-his-name, Girard? It's my fault he's dead."

Jeremie sighs again. He gets up from the desk chair and crouches in front of Ulrich. "No one blames you for going after your sister," he says. The words sound rote even to his own ears. He hopes Ulrich is too drunk to notice, to remember. He presses a hand to Ulrich's shoulder. "No one blames you." These are better, the sincerity evident in his voice. "It wasn't your fault."

Ulrich twists away from him, brings the bottle to his lips and takes a long drink. There's something hunted in his eyes, in the way his shoulders tense each time Jeremie shifts. Jeremie tries not to examine it too hard, tries not to feel annoyed or upset when Ulrich doesn't meet his gaze. Instead, he gets to his feet and shuffles back to the desk, begins typing commands into the supercomputer.

"It isn't yours either," Ulrich says. His voice sounds like broken glass, like it hurts to say the words. Jeremie looks over at him, but Ulrich is laying back now, staring up at one of the broken windows high on the wall where just a bit of night sky can be seen. "They're worried about you. We're worried 'bout you." He pauses to take another swig of alcohol, chokes a bit. "You did everything you could."

Jeremie sighs, pulls his phone out. He pulls up Odd's number. Come get Ulrich.

Odd's reply comes fairly quick. How bad?

I don't think he can make it back to the dorms on his own.

Shit. K. Give me 15.

Jeremie turns his attention back to the computer monitor. He has a long night of programming, of looking for what makes XANA tick (and most importantly, what will stop that ticking) ahead of him. He doesn't need Ulrich distracting him.

/

Jeremie was twelve, still bright-eyed and invincible, the first time he failed at something that mattered. He was twelve the first time a boy died because of him, and nothing he could do could bring him back. He was twelve when he vowed it would never happen again, that he would find a way to bring Aelita to Earth no matter what. When he vowed Phillippe Dumas wouldn't have died for nothing, even if the boy never knew the reason. Even if the family never learned the true reason behind his death.

Jeremie is fourteen when he faces his second real failure. He isn't as bright-eyed anymore, but he still feels invincible. And that, he knows, is what was his downfall. He should've known by now that XANA didn't play fair, should've known that things wouldn't go his way. He should've known. Jeremie is fourteen when he vows to shutdown Lyoko forever because he is selfish and doesn't think he could survive another death on his conscience.

Jeremie is fourteen when his mother succumbs to her illness, when his wish that she stop suffering comes true. Jeremie isn't sure if it's relief or guilt, anger or gratitude, that he feels when she's laid to rest. He lets his head rest on Aelita's shoulder, feels her hands stroking his back, his hair, and hears her murmur words intended to comfort while he cries into her turquoise sweater. There's a bitter taste in the back of his throat, it feels like failure. As though he should've done better, been better for her. He wonders what she'd say if she knew about his other failures.

"It's not your fault," Aelita murmurs against his temple. "You are not terrible." Her lips brush his cheek.

He wishes he could believe her.