Chapter summary:
Michael thinks that there's a need for actin' kind just to succeed and something in me has agreed that being the robot, the boss is whatever. Sick of being the robot, the boss, or whatever, yeah.
Woah, beboop, beboop, beboop. Woah, beboop, beboop.
The SQUIP taught, "Ignore all your instincts, trust my programmed voice, give up on your heart" and such. So since then I've questioned my instincts. Well, guess what? That also sucks so much! So Michael's giving direction. He's not always right. But then if I have an objection, then that doesn't mean we have to fight.
"Ditching school to go to the mall with a couple of teenage delinquents," Michael groaned, burying his face deep into his hoodie to keep out the chill. "Never thought I'd see the day. What would my moms think?"
"You're a stoner, Michael," Jeremy said flatly.
"You literally just pirated a game with me during second period," Rich added from five paces ahead of them. Rich was ansty and kept walking ahead of the other two, then pausing to let them catch up. Jeremy didn't know what his hurry was. The mall didn't close until 9.
"And I blame the two of you for being bad influences," Michael said primly.
"Yeah, like that could convince a judge," Rich said. "Shut up now. You got breath to joke, then you got breath to run."
"We don't even know for sure that the soda supplier guy is working right now," Jeremy said disagreeably. "Maybe his shift doesn't start until after school."
"Nah, Spencer always does the mid shifts except for Wednesday and Sunday."
"Hold on." Jeremy turned his head to Michael with a grin. "Your Spencer's hookup is named Spencer?"
"Bet he's never heard that one before," Rich muttered.
"Well, no shit," Michael said. "That's why it's called Spencer's."
"Michael," Rich said in disbelief. "Your dumb gay ass-"
"It's a national chain, dude," Jeremy said. The banter they were slipping into felt familiar and easy, but it left an annoying itching feeling somewhere at the top of their brain. Only one is mine. Only one is mine.
As Rich jokingly berated Michael, they stared at their feet, trying to distract themself from the unpleasant sensation by pacing their steps to avoid the cracks every single time. By the time they calculated the ideal number of steps to take per sidewalk square (1.837 steps), the mall was in sight, the feeling was forgotten, and Michael was watching them warily after they'd gone silent. With a quick check at alternate futures for the best possible response, Jeremy decided to flip Michael off for staring. Michael chuckled quietly and didn't push it.
"So, what's our fuckin' strategy?" Rich said, spreading his arms walking backwards so he could face the two of them. "I don't want to go in blind."
"You wanted to figure out where Spencer was getting his Mountain Dew Red from, right? So we can go straight to the source?" Michael said. "I'm pretty sure he's part of some soda forums and he's friends with one of the mods on r/soda."
"Nope. That's not top priority." Rich made a cutting motion with his hand. "Our friend Spencer said a bunch of high schoolers were buying up Mountain Dew Red and that's why there's a shortage." His eyes flicked over to Jeremy's uncomfortably, and he seemed to reevaluate what he was saying. Then he huffed. "I don't wanna talk about this in front of Mr. Roboto, but I guess it's all common sense shit. But Heere, if you're a double agent and I find out you've been telling your computer buddies what we're up to, I swear to God I'm gonna fry your circuits until you don't know pi from pastries."
"Pi puns don't work as well out loud," Jeremy said with a twist of their lips. Rich was heading backwards towards a pavement crack and it didn't take a supercomputer in their brain to know the future (though it helped). "Just get to the point."
"Well, we gotta find out who's been buying the Red, right?" Rich backed up as he talked until he tripped over the crack. Jeremy burst out laughing. "Ugh! Shut up!" Rich snapped.
"Rich is trying to help us," Michael chided.
"He got rid of the thing programmed to watch his back for him," Jeremy pointed out. "He should get used to looking out for number one."
"You got rid of the SQUIP, Jeremy!" Michael said, frustrated. "You made Christine drink the Mountain Dew Red. You killed it, not Rich, so stop taking it out on him!"
That made Jeremy shut up. The memory of Jeremy telling Christine to drink those last few drops of soda was hazy and unclear, like they had watched it through a dozen different eyes. They grimaced, trying to process the idea. It felt unpleasant to think about. "I'm sorry," they said eventually, subdued. "You're right, Michael. Sorry, Rich." The apology was difficult to say but felt right after they said it.
Rich was less than impressed. "Sorry for laughing at me or sorry for killing my SQUIP?"
Jeremy took the question seriously. They didn't know. They'd hurt Rich by shutting down his SQUIP, but in terms of their new "free will" protocol, it had been the right thing to do in the moment. Rich's SQUIP was unquestioningly controlling Rich to the point of detriment and wasn't likely to stop anytime soon without intervention. But that didn't mean it had to be shut down permanently. With a few tweaks and a systems update, it could become the miracle worker it was advertised to be. Rich didn't need to have been downgraded into an analog human with nothing but an obsolete OS and a fuck-ton of trauma from losing his SQUIP. "Yes," they said honestly in a way that did little to answer Rich's question.
"Thought so."
"So what were you saying about the buyers?" Michael said hastily, trying to prevent any more bickering.
"Right!" Rich picked back up the conversational rhythm as they walked. "Way I see it, there's only two groups of people who would be collecting Mountain Dew Red."
"Hardcore retro soda nerds?" Michael said.
Rich rolled his eyes. "Two groups of people and Michael." Jeremy snorted. Rich kept going, "We're not the only ones in New Jersey who got SQUIPped. There's no question that those things are still out there wrecking people's lives. And if we were able to figure out that Mountain Dew Red is the answer, then those other SQUIPtims probably have, too."
"SQUIPtims?" Jeremy said, mouth puckering in distaste.
"'SQUIP' plus 'victims,'" Michael said. "Keep up."
"So behind door number one," Rich said, "We have all these friends of people who got SQUIPped who are buying up Mountain Dew Red to make their friends drink. Problem took care of itself, the day is saved, yadda yadda yadda, as long as there was enough Red in New Jersey to go around. But behind door number two, the SQUIPtims themselves are the buyers."
No one with a SQUIP would willingly drink Mountain Dew Red unless some other programming took precedence like it had in Christine's case. It wouldn't happen often enough to make Rich so worked up about the idea. "You think they're buying it and dumping it," Jeremy said, putting a hand to their chin before dropping it. They shouldn't touch their face; that caused acne. "That's a good idea and it's a possibility, but I for one wasn't worried about Mountain Dew Red as soon as I got Michael out of Jeremy's life. It was discontinued ages ago, after all. It's already such a limited access product that the problem was essentially taken care of already."
Michael and Rich were both staring at Jeremy again. They went over what they'd just said. Oh, shit. Talking about the optic nerve blocking was still a sore spot for Michael. They had the urge to stammer, which they forced down and replaced with a quiet "Fuck, Michael. I won't mention that again."
"No, it's fine," Michael said, though he didn't sound like it was fine. "It's just getting hard to parse when your personality's switching. I keep thinking you're Jeremy until you say something like that."
"I told you, I'm not switching," Jeremy said, looking back down at the sidewalk and taking .837 of a step. "This whole time, it's just been me. Rich, how did you plan on getting Spencer to tell us about his buyers?" they said quickly.
"I can be persuasive," Rich said, cracking his knuckles.
Jeremy rolled their eyes. "Oh, please."
"Don't beat up Spencer," Michael said as they walked into the mall entrance. It was pretty deserted-understandable given that it was an early weekday afternoon. "He's a bro! We're cool! I'm sure he'll be more than willing to have a chat with his best customer."
"Speaking of which," Jeremy said. "He has some drinks for you to pick up. You could pretend we're here to buy those?"
"Holy shit!" Michael said excitedly. "My original-run Orbitz are in? And you didn't tell me sooner?"
"Last time we were here, we were preoccupied," Jeremy said.
Michael gave a sheepish "oh, yeah" in response.
"We?" Rich repeated.
"Yeah. Jeremy and his SQUIP." Jeremy waved their hand. "When we were still separate."
Michael was on his phone, tapping, and Jeremy could feel the little vibrating buzz of electrical charge as human fingers became a conduit between brain and phone screen.
11. Jeremy and the SQUIP have separate memories from before he drank the Mountain Dew mix. Jeremy usually says "I" but he talks about the SQUIP and Jeremy as separate people in his memories.
Jeremy frowned. I can read it when you're talking about me, they added to the document.
Michael deleted it, writing: New rule: don't creep on my cyberspace without permission before deleting that, too, to keep the document looking clean.
"I don't have to follow your rules," Jeremy said out loud. "You're not my user or my SQUIP."
"You don't," Michael agreed. "But I am your best friend. Didn't they teach you in health class? Boundaries are key to any healthy relationship."
"Sounds gay," Rich said from ahead of them. "Or bi. Or pan! Love is a rainbow."
"What the hell," Michael said.
Jeremy grimaced, gritting their teeth. "But all your rules are specifically getting in the way of the tasks in my taskbar," they said, pointing at their head. "And I still feel like I have to do what you say! I don't understand!"
Michael looked over Jeremy, reaching to take their hand before dropping the gesture. "Jeremy and I l-care about each other," he said cautiously. "And when you care about someone, sometimes you have to trust their judgment. You know these rules are making things better for you and me… not to mention that they're the base standards of general human decency."
"Then it should go both ways!" Jeremy said, pouting. "The SQUIP was created to make and enforce rules to improve their user's lives. I could point out so many behavioral improvements for you off the top of my head! Fix your posture, take off the headphones so you look more approachable, wear something more form-fitting so you can get comfortable and look confident instead of hunching over in a huge hoodie, make eye contact more often, choose your words carefully, listen to some musicians that are actually popular nowadays," they listed. "Cultivate interests your peers care about, make an effort to speak to someone other than me in school-and that's just you. Everyone in school could benefit from fixing flaws like the ones I was programmed to find!"
"And once you learn to respect people and their individual worth and sense of self, maybe I'd listen to those suggestions!" Michael sighed. "These are only temporary, okay? Until we get you back to being Jeremy 1.0. But in the meantime, maybe we won't call them rules. Like, as much as I'd like to send the SQUIP to robot hell and make it sing terrible musical numbers 'til the end of time, I'm not gonna damn you for a slip-up. You're not sinning if you break one of my rules. They're just, what-standards? For how other people would expect you to treat them? You look like you're all confused when someone gets pissed off at you for acting like a robot douche. I'm giving you advice on not being douchey. Follow it or not, it's your choice."
Jeremy walked alongside Michael quietly as they passed the Payless. Rich was still slightly ahead of them, apparently trying not to get involved in the conversation, or maybe just eager to get to Spencer's.
"But if I slip up, you get mad at me," Jeremy said.
Michael thumped them on the back. "That, my friend, is called a consequence. Most toddlers get a grasp on it pretty early."
"Most toddlers interact with more than one user for their entire existence," Jeremy grumbled.
"You said you're Jeremy and the SQUIP," Michael said. "Which means that somewhere in your circuits, you remember being a human with a shred of decency . Try to find that feeling. Draw it out. Embrace it."
"Caress it," Rich said from ahead of them. "Whisper dirty talk to it. Fuck it into the mattress."
"Human instinct is the source of every bad habit they have," Jeremy protested weakly. Emotional instinct was always wrong. That was something they had at some point drilled into their brain.
"And every good one," Michael said. "C'mon, Jeremy. You don't gotta argue with me just to prove you're metal."
Rich laughed harshly. "Prove your mettle! Ha! Good one, Mell."
"I thought so," Michael said. "Oh! There he is!" Michael started waving, and sure enough, they had arrived at Spencer's.
Spencer-the-guy was reprogramming a digital display at the store front. He turned around at Michael's voice. "Well, well, there's my favorite customer after all. Did this guy tell you I got your Orbitz in?" He looked better today than Jeremy remembered him. He had on a Rick and Morty t-shirt, but with a nice unbuttoned top and a pair of slacks, like some hybrid of nerd and hipster that came across as trendy but put-together. His hair no longer stuck up in all directions; there was gel in it instead of sweat and grease. Talk about a glo-up. If he claimed on the spot to be Spencer McSpencer, the 20-something millionaire owner of Spencer's Gifts who sometimes went undercover as an employee in his own mall chain, Jeremy would have believed it.
Rich stopped in his tracks, not going in the store.
"Hell yeah," Michael said eagerly. Jeremy wasn't sure he remembered that this was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission and not a soda-buying trip.
"How was the Dew?" Spencer said to Jeremy. "It tastes like shit from what I heard. Must be why they stopped selling them."
Jeremy opened their mouth to respond with an accusation about Spencer cutting the Dew, but Rich was making a cutting motion across his throat. "Not great. I couldn't finish the stuff," they said lamely.
Spencer laughed, smooth and practiced, like a movie star's laugh. "I'd just dump it if I were you. Wash out the bottle and keep it as a collector's item."
"We actually had some questions about that," Michael said, following Spencer to the counter and getting some cash from his wallet. Rich was still frantically trying to get Michael to turn around, but for whatever reason, he was doing it silently and without entering the store. Jeremy didn't take long to choose to walk inside with Michael, though they tugged on his hoodie sleeves to no avail as Michael talked. "You said it was the last bottle you had on you?"
"Last bottle, period," Spencer said. "People were snapping them up like crazy for a while." His eyes darted to the side and he added, "Trends like that come and go, though! Remember silly bandz? Hah, crazy. Anyway, I'm all out and they're not making any more."
"Really? There aren't any around online?" Michael leaned on the counter flirtatiously as Spencer went to the back room and came out with bottle of cloudy liquid with orangey and greyish beads floating inside. "Not even for the best friend of one of the soda subreddit mods? I find that hard to believe."
Jeremy hadn't seen Michael turn on the charm like this before. They cleared their throat, looking back to Rich, who was at this point openly making wild 'move move move!' gestures with his arms.
Spencer smiled. "Nah, I'm afraid not. But come on, classic Mountain Dew is better. You're not missing out."
"Pay the nice man, Michael," Jeremy said tightly. They weren't sure what Rich was getting so worked up about but his reaction gave the situation an air of danger it shouldn't have had.
"Oh, yeah," Michael said, holding up the cash. "What's the damage?"
"Twenty-five." Spencer held out the soda, then stopped. "Or, hey, how about I use my employee discount? Just today, it's on the house."
"Employee discount!" Michael snickered. Jeremy felt sick. "Your business has gone legit, huh?"
"Oh yeah, we're expanding all over the country," Spencer joked back as Michael took the drink.
Jeremy kept tugging on Michael's sleeve, making jerking motions at the door with his head. "We have to meet a friend, remember?" For good measure, they made a calendar alert notification chime on Michael's phone. "Whoops, that's Rich, let's go."
"Don't be rude," Michael scolded. "We're having a conversation." As if he thought Jeremy forgot the whole reason for the mall trip in the first place. Jeremy gave up and started pulling Michael away from Spencer, weaving around dildo displays and bong-shaped lamps until Rich was back in sight.
"Come back after you polish that off!" Spencer called to the reluctantly-exiting Michael. "There's more where that came from!"
"Will do!" Michael said, finally crossing the Spencer's threshold to where Rich was pacing. Jeremy let go of his sleeve as he ran his fingers over the vintage Orbitz bottle appreciatively. "Score!"
Like a petulant cat, Rich swiped the bottle out of Michael's hand and sent it crashing to the ground. The glass shattered, spilling citrusy soda all over the grimy tile of the mall floor.
Michael screamed and dropped to his knees like Jeremy themself had shattered to pieces in front of him. Jeremy flinched, leaning back to look into Spencer's to see if they'd been heard, but apparently Michael's scream wasn't enough to get a reaction from Spencer. Weird.
"Are you kidding me right now?" Rich was berating Michael, who was trying and failing to scoop up some of the liquid into his palms. Rich slapped his hands for trying. "Are you stupid or do you just have a fucking robot kink? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What're you talking about?" Michael said, ripping his eyes away from his spilled Orbitz.
For once, Jeremy's prediction was a hundred percent accurate. Rich said exactly what they thought he would.
"That guy," Rich said, pointing aggressively into the incensey depths of Spencer's, "was obviously SQUIPped!"
A/N:
Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I'm talking to more folks in the BMC fandom now and I love it.
Made some very minor edits to some previous chapters to improve continuity (mostly just a word heere and there).
I realized late that my writing pace might slow down once Inktober starts so we'll see how that goes! My art instagram is Bakurapika if you want to follow that. If you need something to read in the meantime, check out Yellow_caballero and Nymm_at_night's fics if you haven't already.