Chapter Text
"Lean on me, when you're not strong. And I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on."
Michael was usually soothed by the sound of Bill Withers singing his favorite song, but this time all he could think about was how Jeremy used to sing it loudly and off-key to cheer him up when he was sad. But he must have been a masochist, because instead of skipping, he closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch.
"For it won't be long, 'til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on."
The words still stuck in his mind, and Michael could hear them on repeat even as the song drowned out all other noise.
Loser.
"Please swallow your pride, if I have things you need to borrow. For no one can fill those of your needs that you won't let show."
Suddenly his air supply was cut off and he was lifted in the air. His headphones slipped off onto the floor, and Michael hoped they weren't broken.
Right, priorities. Like the fact that Rich Goranski is not only choking him with one hand, but that the hand is searing hot and it hurts so fucking much that if Michael could breathe he still wouldn't be able to speak.
"It is too dangerous to leave you alive," Rich says, but Rich never sounds that formal and his eyes have never glowed blue and holy shit this wasn't Rich. "I was hoping to avoid this, but since your presence throws a wrench in my plans, my best hope is to eliminate you and erase your presence from Jeremy's life."
Michael clawed at Rich's hand, and the boy twitched, his eyes dulling for a moment and a look of horror crossed his face. His grip loosened in that moment, allowing him a moment to breathe before it tightened again and it burned like someone placed hot iron against his throat like a brand.
"You are a stubborn one, Michael Mell," the voice coming out of Rich's body remarks, calm and cool in contrast to the usually animated boy. "It will be my pleasure to make sure you do not stand between me and my plans for Jeremy."
Michael's vision began to go dark, and he finally fell limp, unable to keep fighting. The last thing he experienced before completely falling unconscious was the smell of smoke.
Jeremy had made a decision.
He was going to tell his dad that he no longer wanted to go to his current therapist. He would go talk to Michael and apologize for what he did. He'd tell him everything, all the way back to that spider bite months ago. And he'd never go back to that office again.
He was about to call his dad when his phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Jeremy!" It was Christine. "You need to get over here! Rich arrived and he is rambling and talking about doing something terrible and needing Mountain Dew Red and he has these burns and his eyes are flashing and I don't know what is going on! You should get here soon because I don't know if I can figure this out on my own!"
Christine hung up and Jeremy was frozen for a moment before blinking.
Mountain Dew Red...didn't Michael leave a bottle of the stuff last time he was here?
Jeremy immediately got moving, barely noticing the sound of sirens in the distance.
He arrived at Christine's with the bottle of 90s soda and was dragged inside.
Rich was on the couch, shaking and rambling about something as his eyes flashed between glowing blue and their natural color.
Jeremy handed him the bottle, saying, "Here, for you."
Rich held the bottle tightly, quickly chugging until the drink was halfway done. There was almost a shudder as he relaxed, his eyes no longer glowing at all. There was a sigh of relief and Rich took a deep, shuddering breath before handing Jeremy the bottle.
"Thank you," he muttered.
Christine began looking at Rich's burns, asking, "What happened?"
"I don't know," Rich admitted. "I was walking when suddenly everything was yanked from my control. I woke up a few blocks away but all I could think was I needed them out and that I must have done something terrible." Rich blinked as his voiced changed while he talked. "That's...that is the first time in forever I lisped and wasn't shocked by them."
Christine and Jeremy blinked, and Christine asked gently, "Who has been shocking you when you lisp, Rich?" She seemed to barely be in control of her anger as she healed one of Rich's burns, leaving behind a scar before moving on.
Rich made eye contact with Jeremy, saying, "My therapist, Mx. Squip."
Jeremy's blood ran cold, and he asked, "What?"
"They gave me this pill, saying it'll help me out to retain what they taught me. But suddenly I could hear them telling me what to do all the time, shocking me if I did something wrong, and even controlling my body."
This person has no records Jeremy! Nothing showing them at any of the schools they claimed to have gone to to get their degree. This Samuel Squip doesn't exist! Don't you think you should be suspicious, especially with all this they are telling you to do. Therapists aren't supposed to say the things they said to you, Jeremy!
"At first I just went with it. I thought that they were just looking out for me. But then I started passing out, and when I woke up a fire would have happened." Rich shrugged. "I...I have had fire powers since I was little, but I only told them about it."
I got this weird spider bite last week.
Have you noticed any strange side effects?
...No. Not at all.
He didn't feel comfortable even telling his therapist about the fact that he was now a freak. The only reason Christine knew is because she was there when he first used his new abilities, happily telling him how cool his powers were and how she had powers of her own.
"And they gave me the pill the next appointment. I realized they were using me to do their dirty work. I eventually learned Mountain Dew Red would stop them. But then today...it was worse today.
"I remember briefly waking up and I was holding someone by their throat, using my powers to burn them as I did. I tried to release them but they took control again. It tires them out so when I woke up again I did my best to get here and ask for help. Then you brought the Mountain Dew Red and disconnected them. I...I think I killed someone."
Christine sat beside Rich, saying, "We need to figure out a place you can stay, Rich. They must know you came here and with your dad...Jeremy, can he stay at your house? With your abilities, I'm sure he'd be safe there."
"Yeah, my dad will probably be fine with you sleeping on the couch. If not, we can probably arrange with you to stay with Jake, Rich." He was going to ask more questions when his phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Jeremy!"
He blinked with surprise. "Mrs. Mell?"
"Is Michael with you?!"
Jeremy never expected a phone call to send his life crashing down.
He woke up in unbearable pain.
His lungs hurt. Every exposed part of his body was literally on fire and the pain was so overwhelming he wanted to cry. Adrenaline was likely the only reason he made it onto his two feet.
The entire house was on fire, collapsing around him. He stumbled through, gritting his teeth through the pain as he made his way to the back door, collapsing a couple yards from the house and sobbing in pain.
It took him a minute to realize that his skin was healing rapidly, repairing the damage. He watched with wide eyes as wounds closed and the pain subsided. Even the pain in his lungs from smoke inhalation faded until he wasn't even coughing.
"The fuck?" he muttered, looking over his hands with awe.
He felt his throat, where Rich had been holding him. Burn scars were there, the only sign of injury from tonight. He sobbed with relief, unable to believe that he wasn't dead.
He had heard of superpowers appearing in intense situations, but he never imagined that he'd get these kind of powers.
Someone tried to kill him, using Rich to do so. If smoke inhalation and more burns on his body than most doctors see in their entire medical careers hadn't done him in, he imagined bullets or any other method wouldn't either. And if they found out they couldn't kill him...who would be next?
He couldn't risk his parents or Jeremy getting hurt. He couldn't risk the person who manipulated Rich knowing he survived and why. Even if Jeremy had left him behind or his parents never even remembered to tell him Happy Birthday, they didn't need to be dragged into this.
So he stood up, took one last forlorn glance at the house he had grown up in, and left. He had to figure out who tried to off him, and how to use this power to fuck them over.
Whoever tried to kill him would learn exactly how stubborn Michael Mell could be.