Chapter Text
After the play, when Jeremy made Christine drink the MTdew red when everyone screamed from the pain of essentially having what became a part of their brain shut down. After that it was over, right? Right?
Wrong!
The SQUIP still lingered in his brain, except now he didn’t know if it was actually the SQUIP or just his brain playing cruel tricks on him. Glitchy whispers, static, shocks. Everytime he slouched, thought about eating junk, thought about sex, or anything else the SQUIP didn’t like, he could feel himself being electrocuted starting from his brain spreading down to his feet, rattling his bones. It was more like a flashback than him actually being tased but the thought still sent him into full body shivers, like it was happening all over again.
It was 3:00 am at night but Jeremy wasn’t keeping track; he was sitting on the hardwood floor of his bedroom huddling in his duvet; going crazy trying to decide if the whole SQUIP incident was real. His eyes were red and hot from crying. Logically he knew what happened was real but he couldn’t shake the sleep deprivation induced paranoia washing over him sending him into a spiral. ‘It couldn't be real.’ It’s so absurd. He argued with himself, pulling up memories from what happened to prove to himself that he wasn’t crazy, that it wasn't just all in his head. But the more Jeremy tried to remember the more he forgot. His brain becoming a massive blur of overlapping thoughts. He hunched over, holding his legs to his chest, shaking from the idea of being shocked for bad posture but it didn’t make his back straightened like it usually would, instead he curled into himself even more, rocking back and forth. A deranged chuckle escaped from his closing throat.
He muttered to himself, “God- I really am crazy!” His laughing got louder 'I’m fucking insane!'
He didn’t know what was real anymore, all he knew was that he did not want to be alone right now.
He couldn’t.
~~☆･.･.☽.･.･☆~~
Michael always had this sort of ‘codependency’ when it came to his Player 2. He never thought about how much of his self-esteem was tied to Jere, he didn’t have to- he would always be by Jeremy’s side and Jeremy would always be by his. Until the SQUIP situation happened- until the halloween party. That was Michael’s first ever panic attack, because when Jeremy walked out that bathroom door, it was like the whole world did too. Michael has had many panic attacks since then. He was about to have another one right now.
His room was pitch black void this was partially because Michael did not have his glasses on but mostly because it was midnight. He would turn his light but he would want to wake his family and he didn’t have a lamp in his room. Michael hated this feeling; he felt guilty for not being okay.
'What did his mothers do to deserve such a pathetic son?'
'What did Jeremy do to deserve such a pathetic friend?'
He felt so weak, so alone and the darkness wasn’t helping.
He couldn’t go back to sleep. He’s had enough nightmares for tonight- instead he tries to find a distraction. Usually he would go to the basement to get high and play video games to get his mind out of this crippling feeling of loneliness but it’s too late at night, his moms would send him back to his room immediately. Instead he grabs his phone and headphones from his nightstand. Putting on Bob Marley’s discography in a failed attempt to calm himself down. The word ‘loser’ rang through his ears. In Jeremy’s voice too, that made it worse. Despite how irrational it was he couldn’t stop himself from catastrophizing. 'What if he starts ignoring me again? What if he did actually hate me? “What if he’s always hated me?'
What if? What if? What if? WHAT IF?
Michael never needed weed, it was something he just did for fun, he never did it alone either, only with Jeremy they enjoyed how silly they got, the feeling, the stupid conversations they’d have. But ever since Halloween night he’s been needing it. This was one of those desperate times. His skin was clammy, he fidgeted with his hands. He was getting agitated- he NEEDED it but he wouldn’t dare disrespect his moms by smoking upstairs, he knows they hate the smell. He wasn’t meant to smoke at all but his moms gave up on trying to stop him a long time ago. The thought of that made him feel worse. 'I’m just a burden- such a burden- a pathetic loser burden who would be better off-'
His self deprecation was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Not his bedroom door, the front door. 'At this time?' Michael turned off his music, rested his headphones on his neck, found his glasses, and quietly rushed to the front door.
Michael got as close to the door as possible, he tried to be cautious of being too loud in order to not wake his moms up. His lips almost touched it and in his best attempt at a whisper (which was a normal speaking voice) asked “Who’s there?”
He heard mumbles and stammers through the door before a discernible sentence came out their mouth.
“It’s me- Player 2…”
Michael’s eyes lit up, 'He didn’t hate me! He didn’t hate me!' In a fit of passion, loudly fidgeted with the lock and swung the door open with the biggest smile on his face.
“Hey Je-”
Michael's smile quickly faded.
Jeremy was shaking violently, hyperventilating too.
He immediately felt like an idiot. His best friend came to his house at 3:00 AM. 'Did I really think he just wanted to hang out?' He rushed himself to say something, and what he decided to blurt, was a stupid question.
“Are you cold?”