23. Sometimes he regretted having shut down X.A.N.A.

The euphoria is what hits first.

The sudden rush of endorphins makes him feel light-headed and giddy. He can't help the laughter that claws its way up his throat and bubbles out of his mouth. He feels like he's choking.

Aelita looks up at him in concern, eyes round and lips parted. He ignores the others, focuses on Aelita instead and the way the sunlight falling through the window highlights the edge of her cheek and the faint dusting of freckles across her nose from too much time in the sun.

"Jeremie?" Aelita asks.

"Hey, Einstein, you doing okay?" Odd asks. He and Ulrich have paused their game of paper football to stare at Jeremie as well. Even Yumi has stopped highlighting her notes to focus on him.

Jeremie forces himself to swallow the laughter, but the smile remains behind, too wide and stretching his cheeks until they hurt. "Guys," he says. "Guys, I think this is it."

"You don't mean…?" Yumi trails off, doesn't finish her sentence.

"Yes." Jeremie's fingers are restless on the keys, flexing and tapping lightly. He has the sudden, irrational, urge to click the backspace button. He folds his hands into his lap, links his fingers together tightly. "The coding is complete."

/

Jeremie never questions where Ulrich and Odd get the champagne from, but the two of them show up with a couple of bottles and a bucket of ice the night they decide to shut down Lyoko. Yumi raises her eyebrows at the metal bucket with the champagne bottles as she joins them at the supercomputer, but doesn't comment either.

Aelita has her arms wrapped around herself and there's something unreadable in her expression. Jeremie doesn't like it.

"So," Odd says conversationally, "we're sure this thing's gonna work, right? Last time we tried to shut it all down we almost lost Princess."

Jeremie winces. "Yes, I'm as sure as I can be, Odd. I went through all the programming in order to separate Aelita and XANA."

Aelita lets one of her arms fall; her hand rests on the supercomputer. It reminds Jeremie of a mother comforting a child. "Do you suppose it'll change anything?" she asks, fingers stroking the computer's casing. She looks up, meets each of their eyes. "With me."

"You'll still be you," Yumi states.

"How can you be so sure? If I was really linked with XANA, with Lyoko, then maybe Odd's right. Maybe I can't be separated."

"You forgot something, Ai. We've got Jer on our side. He's a genius, remember?" Ulrich asks. He bumps Aelita lightly with his arm and she smiles faintly. "He's got this. We've got this."

Jeremie swallows hard and tightens his grip on his fingers until his knuckles turn white. "Right," he says. He's proud that his voice comes out level and doesn't crack. "Let's finish this, yeah?"

He keeps his eyes on Aelita as he presses enter.

/

After, Ulrich pops the cork on one of the bottles. Jeremie expects the foam to gush, but there's hardly any and Odd gives a low, impressed whistle. Ulrich ignores him, pockets the cork, and then looks around before shrugging. "Looks like we forgot cups," he says, looking up at them.

They pass the bottle around instead, high on celebrating the successful shutdown. They get tipsy-drunk off the sweet champagne, the bubbles burning Jeremie's dry throat. Aelita alternates between tearing up and throwing her arms around each of them in turn. Odd, Yumi, and Ulrich take turns rehashing past victories and close calls. Jeremie takes a deep drink each time the bottle comes his way, doesn't protest like he probably should when Odd announces he's opening the second bottle, and laughs-and-laughs when the cork shoots out and Odd gets covered in champagne foam.

Yumi makes a disgusted face as Odd licks the residue from his fingers. "Do you know how dirty your fingers probably are?" she questions. "This place is disgusting."

"Eh. Waste not and all that jazz," Odd comments. He pops a finger into his mouth and makes an obnoxious slurping sound on purpose.

"Amateur," Ulrich comments. He steals the bottle from Odd and takes a swig before passing it to Jeremie. "You alright, Jer?"

"'Course," he replies. He takes a gulp of the bubbly liquid and ignores the way his stomach rolls and twists. "Just happy it's done." He brings the bottle back to his mouth, takes another long pull from it.

/

Somehow, they make it back to Kadic, to their rooms, without alerting Jim or security. Jeremie isn't sure how Ulrich's hands are so steady while he picks the locks and how Odd doesn't wake everyone from where he is draped over Yumi's shoulder, giggling uncontrollably. Aelita still has that lost look hovering around her eyes, the bittersweet twitch to her mouth when no one is watching. Jeremie wants to take her hand, wants to reassure her that nothing has changed, that everything's changed. He wishes he hadn't drunk that much champagne, he thinks he should've had more.

They part ways, Yumi handing Odd over to Ulrich and following Aelita to her room. Jeremie watches Aelita goes, reassures himself that this isn't a dream. She'll be fine. They'll be fine. Odd's losing steam fast and Jeremie ducks under his other arm, helps Ulrich drag him to the boys' dorm. He's probably more of a hindrance than a help, tripping over his own feet and listing under Odd's unsteady weight. It's a good thing that Ulrich's athletic and Odd's small.

He leaves Ulrich and Odd at their room and stumbles into his own, has the presence of mind to kick off his shoes and place his glasses on the side table before he collapses face-first into his bed. His thoughts are delightfully sluggish and his stomach is worryingly active, but he's asleep before he can get too concerned.

It's still dark out when he wakes, only a thin ribbon of gray light filtering through his still open blinds. He's sticky with sweat, skin clammy and clothes soaked through. It tastes like something has died in his mouth and his stomach is two thoughts away from rebelling on him. He lies there, panting atop his mussed up bedclothes and trying to calm his heartbeat.

I see you, Jeremie echoes in his head.

He's able to make it to the wastepaper basket before he vomits up his bad decisions.

. . … . .

After the shutdown, there's a restless energy that Jeremie hasn't had before. There's an itch under his skin that he can't scratch, a need that he can't placate, and an overwhelming feeling of being stuck. He imagines this is what Odd feels like, why he's always in a constant state of motion. It leaves him feeling short-tempered and frustrated.

"We're reading Frankenstein in class," Yumi tells him one day. It's stated out of the blue, Jeremie thinks, or else he'd been distracted again. He makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, aiming for mildly interested and still not sure how they got to this point of the conversation. "By Mary Shelley."

"Yes, I know the story," Jeremie replies, eyes focused on his computer screen. "Remember, we watched the old film last year for movie night?"

Yumi nods slowly. She has that thoughtful look on her face that Jeremie has learned to be wary of over the years. It means she's puzzling something over, drawing conclusions, and reading him like an open book. He doesn't want to know what his pages are telling her these days.

"Yes…but the book is…different."

"We won't read it until next year."

Yumi hums quietly, taps her fingers against the side of her insulated coffee mug. "It's funny how everyone always calls the monster in the movie 'Frankenstein' when that's the doctor's name." She pauses, raises her mug and takes a sip. "Do you think it's because on some level they recognize Frankenstein's own monstrous tendencies that lead to his downfall?"

Jeremie raises his eyebrows at her. "Aren't you reading into it too much? Most of the promotional material always shows the monster so people just link the name with the image."

Yumi shrugs. "Maybe."

Jeremie takes a sip of his own coffee, pulls his eyes away from the computer screen to meet Yumi's stare. "What are you saying?"

Yumi shrugs again. "Nothing," she says after a moment. "Just working through ideas for my paper." Her eyes are steady on him though and he feels trapped. The itchiness under his skin acts up again, makes him frown and cross his arms. "I'm thinking about focusing on the fallibility and hubris of scientific ambition."

"Yumi-"

"We achieved what we set out to do, Jeremie." She closes her notebook and recaps her highlighter. "Aelita is here, is safe, and we ended a powerful threat. That should be enough." Her eyes meet his once more. "We should be able to move on. All of us."

. . … . .

Jeremie had never liked XANA, but he had respected him, it, whatever. It was a weird thing to think about what essentially amounted to a computer virus bent on world domination. But, Jeremie can appreciate the schemes that were put in place, the coding that was used, the way the artificial intelligence recalibrated, learned, and outmaneuvered them at each turn.

It was like a game of chess.

There was a back-and-forth that Jeremie enjoyed, despite himself. He doesn't mention it to the others, it's not something you talk about. How can you tell your friends that you enjoy going up against a villainous computer program that has already killed two people and nearly killed your friends (and you) on multiple occasions? You can't.

Nevertheless, the world feels strangely bereft once XANA is taken out of the equation. The world keeps turning, lessons still go on, Odd still pulls pranks, Sissi still causes a scene wherever she goes, and Aelita's smile still makes his breath catch when he sees it. But now he's drifting, purposeless. He's spent so long poring over cramped coding and restructuring programming that he isn't sure what to do now.

It's like he'd been drowning and now he has to learn to breathe again.

. . … . .

Ulrich meets Jeremie at the path through the woods. He has his hands shoved in his pockets and his breath mists in the early morning air. Jeremie wraps his scarf around his neck and rubs his bare hands together. He had forgotten his gloves upstairs.

"Ready?" Ulrich asks.

Jeremie nods and they fall into step with each other. Jeremie wants to ask Ulrich why he's decided to join him, what he's hoping to get out of their morning excursion, but he doesn't. He keeps his eyes on the trail, still mostly shadowed from the dawn light and overhanging branches, and tries to keep from tripping over stray stones and sticks. Ulrich is silent next to him, breathing quiet and even and footsteps light and easy. Jeremie envies him as he puffs along, twigs snapping beneath his clumsy feet.

They make it to the factory when the sun is above the trees. Jeremie estimates that it's getting close to eight and his stomach rumbles in agreement. The demolition workers are already on scene, moving around the building and securing the premises, making sure there are no squatters present inside. Jeremie watches the hustle and bustle of the people as he and Ulrich shelter in the treeline. There's a news crew setting up as well, ready to film the destruction.

"It'll be alright," Ulrich states, voice calm.

"Of course it will," Jeremie replies. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the rough bark of a tree. "We erased any trace we'd left behind."

"That's not what I was referring to."

They fall silent again and Jeremie sneaks a look at Ulrich. The other boy looks tired, dark smudges under his eyes and tanned skin pale in the gloom cast by the woods. It's more than that though. There's a sag to his shoulders, a slump to his spine. Jeremie frowns.

"Are you alright?"

Ulrich doesn't respond for long enough that Jeremie figures he's ignored the question. Then, finally, he gives a single nod, jaw clenching slightly. "Yeah," he says. "Rough night."

Jeremie doesn't want to ask, but he knows Ulrich wouldn't have said that if he didn't want to talk about it. He scuffs a shoe in the dirt. "You and Odd…?" He's not sure where he's going with the question so he lets it trail off, feels his neck and face flush.

Ulrich shifts, glances at him, and offers a wry smile to whatever he reads on Jeremie's face. "Nah," he says. His hands are back in his pockets and he leans against the tree next to Jeremie. "Just thinking of today."

Jeremie nods, presses his shoulders into the tree and watches the demolition men. He takes a breath, smells pine and petrichor. "Did you ever miss it?"

"Sometimes," Ulrich admits. "I missed the escape." He shifts again. "Sometimes I'd go and virtualize myself just for some peace."

Jeremie glances at him, surprised. "I didn't know that. That was irresponsible, what if something had happened to you?"

Ulrich shrugs, jaw clenching once again and Jeremie gets it. He hesitates before reaching over and placing a hand on Ulrich's jacket. The denim is cool beneath his hand and he gives it a squeeze before he turns back to the factory.

"The first time I virtualized on Lyoko…there was nothing there," Jeremie states. His voice is soft, tentative. Ulrich is still next to him, gaze focused on the workers, but Jeremie knows he's listening. "No monsters, no noise…nothing. Except, there was a voice."

"A voice?"

"I thought it was one of you at first, playing a trick on me. But, it wasn't." Jeremie folds his arms across his stomach and stares at the factory and the too-blue sky behind it. "I see you, Jeremie it said."

"Maybe it was in your head?"

Jeremie's mouth quirks into a smile. He'd wondered that as well, while he'd wandered the Forest Sector, when he'd returned and seen their worried faces, when he'd wake late at night with the voice echoing in his ears. He shakes his head.

"I think it was an acknowledgement." He breathes in the smell of damp earth and swallows his sudden nervousness. "I think it was a warning. What is XANA but a reflection of human ambition? Of someone's desire to play God? And how was that different than what I did?"

"You didn't play God, Jeremie. Don't give yourself that much credit."

"No?" Jeremie asks. "What do you call bringing Aelita here?"

"Aelita was always meant to be here. You were righting someone else's error."

Jeremie lets his eyes slide over Ulrich, at the dark circles and tense shoulders. "At what cost?" he asks, voice softer than he means it to be. "I put everyone through so much and no one will ever know."

Ulrich snorts, it's quick and derisive. "Stop it. You're giving yourself a martyr complex. We all knew what we were signing up for, we wanted Aelita here too. And we'll know what we did, that's all that matters. Aelita knows what we did. It's over, Jer."

Jeremie falls silent, mulls over Ulrich's words. "And what if we hadn't shut it down?" he asks. "What if we'd just separated Aelita's code and left Lyoko functional."

Ulrich's gaze is palpable. Jeremie can feel it weighing on his shoulders, burning into the side of his face. He stubbornly keeps his gaze averted and his chin lifted. "What would be the point of that?"

"XANA was advanced artificial intelligence. If there was a way to repair the code, to fix what was corrupted…"

"Now you're trying to play God," Ulrich states. "Why risk it? We did the right thing."

The men have retreated now behind barricades and the reporter has moved back a few more steps. The explosion, when it comes, is fast. One moment the factory is there and the next it is caving in on itself like a house of cards. Boom, boom, boom. Down it goes, a cloud of dust and smoke filling the air and hovering over the river. Jeremie covers his nose and mouth with his scarf and Ulrich raises an arm to cover his face.

When the dust clears the factory is in ruins and the workers are moving forward to investigate it. Jeremie feels a pang, staring at the rubble. It really is over, he thinks. He blinks back the sting of tears from the dust cloud and coughs to clear his lungs. When he looks over at Ulrich he sees that the other boy looks relaxed, smiling even as he coughs.

"That was so cool!" Ulrich enthuses, eyes bright.

Jeremie musters a smile. "Yeah," he agrees. He inclines his head back toward the path to Kadic. "Ready to head back? I'm starving."

Ulrich's mouth twists into a smile and he nudges Jeremie lightly. "Now you're starting to sound like Odd. Come on, Jer."

Ulrich leads the way and Jeremie takes a moment to glance back at the factory. The dust is settling and the building is nothing but broken concrete and smoking timber. He has the irrational urge to say goodbye, to leave some type of memorial, something to say that they were here. That they had rescued Aelita. That they had saved the world.

Instead, he turns and follows Ulrich back to Kadic, back to where their friends were doubtlessly waiting for them.