Chapter Text
"Hey." Jeremy says, sprawled across Michael's bed, looking at the ceiling, not at where Michael is sitting on the floor against the bed, on his laptop, where he's been the entire night.
"Yeah?" Michael responds, slowly, not looking up from the screen currently displaying Mary-Kate and Ashley's webpage from 2001 on the Wayback Machine.
Jeremy shifts to his side, and lifts himself up on one arm, so he can see the top of Michael's head, and the laptop screen, which he pays no attention to. It's been the same for about an hour now.
"Can I ask you something?"
Michael absent-mindedly gives an "uh-huh."
"It's..." Jeremy taps his hand against his Michael's comforter. "Well."
Michael squints his eyes at the computer. "I can't believe Mary-Kate and Ashley are mega-rich fashion hermits now."
"...Uh, right."
"It's weird. The clothes they designed back then were not good, at all. And then suddenly the stuff they design is sophisticated and worth thousands of dollars, and they don't do any more acting or anything, they just live in the shadows with their millions of dollars."
"Okay?"
"I'm telling you, Jeremy, I think something is up with them."
Jeremy flops back onto his back. Michael's been coming up with all kinds of strange conspiracy theories lately. He's becoming borderline obsessive about it, and although Jeremy is usually 100 percent on board with whatever Michael is passionate about, these theories always have something to do with the Squips, and it's getting tiring. Jeremy waits for Michael to reveal the connection.
"Brooke said her Squip was Mary-Kate Olsen. Maybe-"
"Michael, can we not talk about Squip things? Please?"
Jeremy shifts back to his position towards Michael, who has turned his head to look up at Jeremy.
"But there's so much..." He starts to say, before giving in to Jeremy's pleading look. "Yeah, alright."
Michael lowers his laptop's cover and pushes it aside. He slumps against the bed, defeated, as if all the exhaustion he's been ignoring has just now registered. He sighs. "I'm sorry."
"I just- I just want to hang out with you, you know?"
"Yeah." Michael rubs his eyes. "Uh. You said you wanted to ask me something, earlier."
"Yeah. Well. Is there a reason you've been," so obsessed, "So focused on 'Squip research' lately?"
Michael moves so he's on his knees, facing Jeremy. his arms criss-cross on top of the bed. "Um. I don't really know," he admits.
Jeremy asks, seriously and quietly, "Do you think they're going to hurt us again?"
"What? No, of course not," Michael assures. He stands up, and climbs into bed with Jeremy, who sits up.
Michael takes Jeremy's hands. "I want to have all the information I can so that the Squip can't do anything to you ever again. It's not going to. It can't."
Jeremy doesn't see how reading articles from mary-kateandashley.com circa 2001 is going to protect them from brain-supercomputers, but he isn't going to argue. Michael's trying to help, and it worked last time, but still, he looks exhausted. Jeremy puts a hand on the other's shoulder. "You have to take breaks, and stuff, though."
"Duh, man, I know that. I'm not five."
"Yeah, but sometimes when you get caught up in things, you..." Jeremy says, and gestures vaguely.
"I know. But you don't have to worry about it. I got it under control."
Jeremy shrugs. "Whatever you say."
"I do! Look, why don't we play something? Zombies Ate my Neighbors? "
Jeremy smiles. They haven't played that one in a while. "Sounds great."
Michael smiles in return, before kissing Jeremy on the cheek and handing him a controller. Jeremy's happy to have his attention again, and anyways, Michael's probably right about the Squips. Jeremy is just overreacting, as always. He trusts (hopes?) that Michael knows what he's doing.