Archive of Our Own

There was only one way for John Doe to make things right.

It wasn’t as though he was an entity of any particular guilt. His thoughts skewed far more towards violence, towards blood, towards hate. He’d never truly understand the vitriol that fueled entities like 1x1x1x1 – of course he was angry, but that kind of single-mindedness… Ugh. Code had more to it than a solitary objective. He could be the inhuman dog he surely was and think of things beyond tearing Roblox as an industry to bits. Some of the things here were just so one-track. It bored him, though not enough for that incomprehensible entity that brought him here to consider him exhausted.

No, no. The games were fun, in their own right. He had no shame for the work he did during them. What else was he meant to do? Stand around and wait to be torn apart? No. A program deferred to its command, and as far as John Doe could tell, he’d been commanded to put in the work for his role as a killer in this strange realm. Even if he wasn’t being carefully nudged toward that goalpost, he needed some way of getting his ire at everything he was and ever would be out. The people here always came back from the grave, no matter how much blood was squeezed from them. Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them escape when he had such perfect catharsis looking him in the eyes?

His issue was more… personal. Really, he couldn’t be all too surprised that ghoulish ringmaster had dragged that one survivor into these games. Such a major facet of who ended up here was how emotionally driven they could be and how guilty they could become, after all, even for those perpetuating the slaughter. John Doe never claimed to be particularly human, much less emotional. He supposed the Spectre had found that out and chose to jostle his mind a little in the form of a certain man.

Just his luck, John Doe supposed. All code needed a way to start off. He supposed that particular former hacker turning up was just his version of a start button. To give his jailer credit, he’d certainly been a bit more… invested in the games ever since. He had something to look forward to, now. Finding that man’s face and figuring out how to make things better was an avid priority, no matter how difficult it’d proved to be.

Then again – his claws dragged over the surface of a popcorn stand – he wasn’t all too sure the man would recognize him. Maybe Doe didn’t want him to. He was hardly the same entity he was when they’d worked together. Such a stellar person, forsaken to this shadowy realm… a realm only things like Doe truly deserved. It would’ve been enough to make his heart hurt if he could still feel it beating.

The match was down to the two of them, though. What better chance to get what he needed? That reprieve, that weight off his chest, that issue resolved – it was all for himself. Technology was selfish when given the chance, and John Doe was nothing more than the electricity keeping him wired. He would believe nothing else. If the man that nagged at every copper wire in his mind didn’t recognize him, well… Doe deserved that, plain and simple. He wouldn’t overthink it. He’d continue with his code, for that was all he was ever made to do.

Programs didn’t get distracted. With a shake of his head, Doe grounded himself and set off. His corrupted arm, more of a heavy weight than a limb by now, dragged behind him and left scratches in the paved ground. There was nothing he could touch and not damage. Again – either in defiance of or in line with his code, he couldn’t tell – Doe felt the potent urge to never see his former compatriot’s face again. That desperate ache to simply cease the hunt and start picking out the bones of his spine instead, for that pain would be lesser than seeing him again. Even thinking of his name was starting to make some feelings Doe had dulled the edges of long ago resurface in kind. What would happen if he showed his face again? He’d surely get bloodthirsty and rip gashes into skin, turning him into just as much of a mess as Doe himself was.

Still, he pushed forward. It had to be his code, now, for he felt no desire to keep moving at all in the moment. Or perhaps his feelings were that str –

Hm. No. He wouldn’t be entertaining the idea he had some overlap with the human experience by now.

To keep himself occupied, he dug the dead weight called his right arm into the floor and felt it throb. Upon the pulsing sensation setting in, Doe became acutely aware of the man he was hunting – evidently, he thought he was safe enough not to hide from Doe’s presence. Pity. Doe had thought he’d be smart enough to know that Doe was rotten to the core, composed of the worst sins of humankind and broken, mangled code. Ah, well.

He had set a trap somewhere around here, though his memory was failing him on the precise location. Just to be certain, he stilled long enough to stop the ground a few times, watching the rising shadow underneath himself. If the other one didn’t get tripped, then he’d surely be able to bait the poor fellow into this one. It was just a matter of time. And then – and then –

There was that unfamiliar wave of feelings again. Something akin to guilt, to shame, to warmth. It was all a bit too sharp in his stomach, so Doe dismissed it and let everything fade into the background of executables and if-then strings. There was work to be done. Emotion only complicated everything, as far as he could tell. Anyway, he had no right to be experiencing those feelings in the first place. Humankind was nothing like him. They were far, far superior.

His body continued to drag itself along, every part of himself feeling like as much of a burden as his corrupted limb. There was no choice but to keep going, though. Nothing else seemed like an option. Perhaps he was just as single-minded as those around him… Hm. No matter. It got him to where he wanted to be, and that was what was important. And, as he heaved himself onto the platform leading to the ferris wheel, his own eternal compliance paid off.

Briefly, his gaze fished around for the presence he’d been hunting. Nothing caught his eye at first beyond the bright red that colored most of the carnival. After one scan of the area, he was already prepared to set off, if only because lingering was starting to give his mind time to wander. The last thing he wanted to ponder was missing person posters and what grief must’ve felt like for such a lonely human being, because he had never known grief. Of course not. How could code know emotion? Such a silly assumption. The fact he was even musing over it pushed him back towards the stairs. He would’ve kept up his dissociated stride were it not for the blur of color that suddenly screeched to a halt.

“Oh no – no, no, no, not like this –”

Bullseye.

John Doe couldn’t tell if he felt possessed or fully in control for the first time in a while. Regardless, his head turned at a sharp angle and his good arm’s claws dug into the border around the ferris wheel platform. Despite the back-straining heft of his other arm, he raced towards the source of the noise, the sudden mechanical whirring that he recognized all too well only fueling his sprint. He skidded to a halt only when the man he’d been seeking out was perfectly within his line of sight, eyes practically twitching with adrenaline. Had he always gotten this riled up hearing from another survivor? Surely not, but…

Well. 007n7 was a special case.

The two made eye contact that only lasted a brief moment. As soon as 7n7 noticed the danger he was in – or, rather, would have been in under different circumstances – he went back to his c00lgui device. That wouldn’t do. 7n7 just leaving would keep Doe from saying anything he needed to! But hurting 7n7 any further would surely set them up for an uncomfortable talk, given 7n7 would be busy clutching his wounds… What a predicament.

Fortunately for Doe, the solution came to him rather easily. He cocked his head and approached 7n7 just in time to catch him off guard with the sound of a popup. 7n7 stopped dead in his tracks on the screen, hands trembling in front of him as he read the Windows-style error message.

DON’T LEAVE ME YET. :(

His breath was shallow and he was clearly terrified, and yet, he stayed perfectly still. His gaze panned over to look at John Doe, who was staring right back at him with the same smile Doe always wore. He would’ve offered 7n7 a kinder smile if he could, but as it were, his range of expressions were quite limited. There was no way he would ever be seen as courteous, anyway. No point in a program trying to be something it wasn’t.

7n7 blinked once, swallowed thickly, then lowered his hand.

“W… What business do you have with me? Is this some kind of – I –” 7n7 ran a hand over his forehead, pawing at the sweat beading up. Doe loathed to be the cause of it, though at the same time, he found no position for himself more fitting than this.

Another chime on the c00lgui. 7n7 looked over sharply. A moment later, he seemingly caught onto what exactly was occurring – Doe had no other way to speak. He’d always been mute, and while he was sure he’d known sign language at some point, his memory of most of it was spacey. Even without that memory impairment, having an entire arm out of commission made the parts he could recall difficult at best to emulate. This would have to do.

(And, truth be told, Doe was getting an odd thrill out of speaking through a device that was so distinctly 7n7. It made it feel like whatever wiring kept him moving was set ablaze in a brilliant light. He needed to continue doing this, so long as he was permitted. It was thrilling. It was novel. It was between them.)

The text of the message said one simple thing: I WANT TO TALK.

“You –” 7n7 glanced over at Doe, who was positively twitching, then sighed. His shoulders slumped back and he tipped his head to the side, seeming briefly lost in thought. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. That’s… I guess that’s fine? …Uh…” His eyes continued to dart every which way, and his hands hadn’t stopped utterly shuddering. It made Doe feel sick in some manner. He wanted to grab those hands and run his claws over them until they stopped shaking, until 7n7 could just calm down and smile for once –

…Mmmh. Strange thought. Doe resisted the urge to hit his head and fix whatever code had gone awry in there, though, since he figured it would look bad in front of 7n7. Even if the former hacker clearly didn’t recognize Doe in the state he was in, he wouldn’t want to look bad in front of a fr…

Companion.

Companion.

Ugh. He needed to get this over with.

I HAVE NO MALINTENT NOW. Another chime, another popup. I WANT TO SPEAK ON YOUR LEVEL. PERSONALLY.

“...Personally?” 7n7 poked a hand into his chest, almost seeming more baffled by the idea Doe was making the offer to him than he was about the offer itself. So 7n7 certainly didn’t remember his old friend. No surprise. Doe wasn’t sure if he recognized himself most days, anyway. “That’s… What’s your plan, then? I don’t –” He laughed, a noise that was something between sheepish and nervous. Doe would’ve compared him to a scared animal, but Doe often found that the only beast among men was himself, these days. “I’m sorry, this is just… what?”

DO YOU NOT WANT THIS? Doe’s stare was perpetual, unyielding. 7n7’s never stayed in one place. They were nothing alike. Doe found himself wanting to bury into 7n7 and become him just to feel like a person again. Maybe the code was just acting up, though. Machinery did not yearn for humanity, because it didn’t comprehend the experience in the first place. Insects never looked at birds and craved to be within their hearts and brains, did they?

(...Did they?)

“No, I didn’t – that’s –” 7n7, acting so trapped despite Doe’s consistent lack of much aggression, caught his breath and tried again. “I didn’t… mean it that way. I’m just… confused? There’s been places we’ve gone, you know – besides the games. The… this. But none of, uh – the – your –”

THE MURDERERS.

“...Those, yes. None of the – the murderers have ever… offered to…” His weight shifted, and Doe mirrored the motion, his body weight leaning against the behemoth of his massacred arm. 7n7 only glimpsed the limb for a second before he looked away and cringed. Doe couldn’t blame him in the slightest. Really, he doubted he could blame 7n7 for anything less than shredding the world with his bare hands, and even then, would Doe have room to judge?

Perhaps he was just loath to believe the idea that 7n7 would turn out like him.

I AM. I WANT TO. I WANT TO SEE YOUR MIND. There was far more Doe was inclined to see. How he wanted to look down at 7n7’s heart and hope it beat, one day, in tune with his. Then again, that wish entailed Doe becoming organic at some point, anything more than a far cry from human nature. He could never insinuate he was capable of the feats human beings were. Not as he was now.

“I… see.” A pause. “Alright, then.”

I’LL SEE YOU SOON.

Doe wished he could have lingered there, staring into 7n7’s eyes until the end of time… or the end of the match, anyhow. As it were, he merely dragged himself away, his arm dragging behind him while his body twitched fervently. He could feel 7n7’s gaze on his exposed spine until he disappeared around a corner. That, in its own way, served as comfort. He hadn’t terrified 7n7 by mannerisms alone. Not yet.

The round ended with minimal fanfare. The Spectre’s seemingly arbitrary time limit expired, leaving Doe to awake in his endless limbo. He always returned to this unyielding white void, broken up only by windows of old developer logs from Roblox. It grew tiring, seeing the same lines of code and explanations that built up his psyche displayed like merry announcements. Was it not enough that he had to live within the hundreds of thousands of when-loops that cycled in his mind endlessly? Did he also have to see every line, every profuse explanation given by the vicious corporation, all for the simple purpose of ensuring he never lost sight of his viciousness? He wondered, some days, if 1x1x1x1 had to deal with the same agony. And what of the survivors, away in their little wooden cabin lobby?

Sometimes he’d see the filtered usernames of c00lkid or 007n7 hovering in between lists of censored words and banned unsavory characters, though. If nothing else, it made his smile feel a little more genuine.

You still intend to do this to extrapolate guilt of him. Don’t you?

The voice grated on Doe’s mind more than any encoded messages and lines of commands. He wished he could express his annoyance physically a bit better, but all he could offer the encroaching shadow above him was a slight huff as he reared his head. Leaning back against his corrupted arm like a chair backing, Doe tilted his head to the left, acknowledging the Spectre wordlessly. It didn’t care what he had to say. It already knew.

This is motivation. This is fuel. This is power. You know this. You will ensure he feels worse and worse, knowing he has dragged everyone into this pit. It is his fault… to him, anyhow. It feeds me. It feeds us.

Once more, Doe didn’t dignify the Spectre with a response. There was plenty he could say, of course – he didn’t want to make 7n7 feel worse, he just wanted his friend back. He didn’t want more grief shoved between the ribs of every person here. All he wanted was some relief. Some kind of company when the unyielding threads that tugged him every which way were all he’d ever had. He felt like nothing and everything. He felt too much and not at all. 7n7 could bring some clarity – some humanity – humanity Doe would never internalize nor comprehend, but humanity nonetheless.

None of that breached the barrier between his mind and the rows of div classes and defined variables. Only one thought came to the surface as anything but a fuzzy mess.

YOU WON’T STARVE.

I won’t. I know. I know.

And then the darkness relented, sinking into the white void as if it were being drained away. Doe sighed and stood up. After rolling his shoulder and grumbling incomprehensible syllables, he took one last gander at the popups that loomed over him. The typical nonsense. Something about him being merely a test – merely a ploy. He was never human. Not to anyone. All that existed inside his chest was the eternal hum of computer fans and running executions, all with the end goal of making something happen. He was made to do, not to think – he was as much a compilement of data as any machine before him. So what if he had a life once upon a time?

Nothing relating to his old self mattered. All the thoughts tied to it were hazy at best, composed of scrawled out faces and jumbled words. Even 7n7 and his adopted child, who he’d clung to like a life raft in the darkness that consumed his mind, were distant memories. Had 7n7 even known him for long? Had there been a funeral when Doe had gone missing? Would 7n7 have attended? Did they ever care about each other, or had Doe fruitlessly fabricated some notion that someone cared for him just so he could feel a little less like…

…

He wanted to be a machine. Since when had he started taking issue with it? More than anything, this was what he had wanted. Doe had yearned to sink his teeth into code and let it take over his body. If he had no mind to think and no will to desire, then he could get much more done, he had once reasoned. Being some simple pre-coded robot made him the perfect entity! Who would turn down the potential to increase their workflow by triple, quadruple, quintuple? He would’ve taken up the chance to become an artificial intelligence in moments, particularly if it gave him an out to tear down that corrupt game company.

But here he was. Bemoaning the notion that he would never understand the human experience. He never could, right? He’d surrendered any part of him capable of comprehending what people were like so long ago – it was the cost for him to be, allegedly, far beyond such trivial matters as feelings. Why was he so begrudging when it came to obeying his code now? 7n7 wouldn’t want anything to do with him anyway, regardless of if he were still sane or not. Why was he deliberating on all of this in the first place?!

Infuriated, Doe spun around and clobbered himself in the head with his good arm. The impact was utterly dizzying, enough to make his legs shake a bit. He recovered swiftly, though, blinking a few times as he reoriented himself. If he hit himself and it hurt, was he strong or weak?

…Well, whatever he was, he wasn’t thinking so hard anymore. Doe shook his head and resigned himself to sitting back down, leafing through the old devlogs he’d read a thousand times over. At least he’d never get bored, though perhaps that fact was why the Spectre kept giving him them. Who knew?

All Doe had to care about were the urges in his mind and his little date when the next round kicked off.

Luckily for him, he didn’t need to wait long. Just a bit after his little… code malfunction (something he was sure a person would call a “fit”), the void of notifications and old messages from that accursed company Roblox vanished. Doe only had to blink once for his scenery to completely change around him. Maybe the first few times, the sensation had been completely dizzying. By now, though? It was as normal as stepping out the door. Not that he could remember leaving a house, spare for maybe once or twice when 7n7 saw him out with a smile…

Ugh. His stomach was churning again. Whatever protocol was forcing that sensation on him, Doe deeply wished it would shut down sooner rather than later.

Rather than thinking through his own physical and mental sensations, Doe did what he’d always done best – put his mind elsewhere. He lifted his head to evaluate the setting the Spectre had dubbed an appropriate place for a meet-up. Right after looking up, Doe became aware of the warm sensation on his face. The sun was in a perpetual sunset, as he noticed once he looked at the horizon – despite being just on the cusp of dipping under the ocean ahead, it didn’t move in the slightest. In the sky, purples and oranges stretched as far as the eye could see either way, the faintest sky blue visible above those intermingling shades.

(When had he last seen a sunset? …Hm. A machine didn’t need to understand beauty. It didn’t matter then and wouldn’t matter now.)

His gaze wandered quickly, with Doe not wanting to give himself too many chances to think. Couldn’t his code handle all the relevant things for him, surely? Surely. He told himself it was his programming that gravitated him towards the grill as his fingers eased under the lid. Under his feet, sand crunched softly, his typical trail of flaming evil lingering at his heels with every step. Despite the split second of concern about if he’d damage 7n7 with it whenever he arrived, his thoughts had become much too fixated on the scenery to care.

A beach. A beach with a grill and a picnic blanket and a sunset and –

It felt so familiar. Doe wanted to wince and kick up a complete mess until his programming threw him a bone. Why couldn’t he pinpoint this memory? Why did he have this memory in the first place?! How had the Spectre even – why had –

Clunk.

The grill’s lid slammed shut, barely missing his hand. Briefly, Doe found himself wistfully wishing that it had actually crushed his claws, if only so some of the pain could divert his train of thought. Instead, he was forced to continue circling the area around the yellow-and-red checkered blanket, eyeing it like it were a dangerous beast. If he didn’t have obligations that just barely managed to rank out destroying everything here, Doe was certain he would’ve shredded the entire piece of cloth by now. If 7n7 didn’t turn up soon, he was still very well considering it.

Do you like it?

Quick as a flash, Doe’s head snapped around. It was force of habit more than anything – the Spectre never seemed to physically show up outside of ominously darkening the sky. Even now, though, the sunset remained as nauseatingly beautiful as it had been when Doe first opened his eyes. Maybe the pitch-black shadow would be better. Maybe rotting in a hole and letting 7n7 live a normal life would be better. Maybe death would be far, far better.

Death wasn’t in the code, though, so Doe sat down on the blanket and tried not to start tearing things up.

“Oh, you’re… I didn’t think you’d actually be here.”

Finally, Doe thought in a cadence that his typical lines of code never used. Just as soon as his inner voice spoke up, it was silenced with a string of building-block code pieces forming a convoluted when-then series. He tried to strike a balance between not getting too caught up in it without defying it, which eventually made him settle on awkwardly turning to look over his shoulder at the source of the voice. At the same time, he became acutely aware of his claws digging into the sand beneath them, forming a small pit.

He kept digging. Anything to sate his need to bury fangs and sharpened nails into something. If he didn’t keep going, he was sure it’d end up being himself next.

7n7 stood further back, a few yards away from the grill and blanket. He was smiling – a small mercy, for Doe couldn’t bear him being miserable this whole time – albeit the smile still retained a nervous edge. Despite the change in scenery, 7n7 refused to meet Doe’s eyes. Doe elected to cut out the middleman, turning back to the eternal sunset. He heard 7n7’s footsteps approaching behind him before he turned at the last minute, stopping at Doe’s side. Avoiding the trail of corruption, Doe presumed.

Really, he was shocked 7n7 had agreed to this so willingly. Either the desperate survivor saw a glimmer of a memory within Doe’s eyes or he simply felt he had no choice. There was no reality where someone would wholly willingly go with a rotten machine so compliant to every line of its source code, and certainly not someone as exceptionally intelligent as this man. Even through the thick fog that enveloped every memory of Doe’s, he remembered the brilliance of 7n7’s work. There was some incredible shine within the man’s heart that made him both smart and loving, two traits Doe thought were mutually exclusive.

Even Doe’s code could confess to that, at least, but thinking too hard on the matter made his stomach twist into knots again. He put it to rest as swiftly as it’d come alive in his head. Back to the constantly running flowgraphs for every situation in his head, each diagram setting off live wires of code responses. That was life. He wasn’t human or anything, so he didn’t have the liberty of autonomy. Simple, really.

(Why did it feel like he was trying to convince himself of that matter, though…? There was nothing to doubt… was there?

…No.)

7n7 kneeled next to Doe, hands on his own thighs and occasionally kneading the fabric of his pants. Even when Doe kept his gaze firmly ahead, he could feel the stares of 7n7 burning into the back of his head now and again. Never once did he return them, despite the allure. He couldn’t ruin the illusion that things were okay. Why he wanted to cling to such an impossible fantasy, he’d never know – frantically, he chalked it up to a piece of defunct code messing with his detection of reality. Accursed Roblox developers.

He’d never accept that he was human enough to want.

“...You look nice,” 7n7 uttered. That was more than enough to snap Doe out of whatever trance he was in, head spinning sharply to face his former companion. As if Doe’s gaze was the only thing to make 7n7 think about what he was saying, he began waving his hands in front of his chest, sweating. “Wait – haha – uh – not – I just… meant to say you looked peaceful! You… I didn’t think you were the type to – you know. You look very…” His voice dropped down to a hushed tone, as if he were embarrassed to describe Doe in any sort of way. “Aggressive, I suppose. I… apologize for getting that impression. You’re fine company.”

All Doe could do was look at him blankly. He wanted to say something along the lines of I kill the people around you for a job, so don’t apologize for getting that idea, really, but 7n7 hadn’t pulled up the c00lgui. Did 7n7 even have it on him? Doe’s gaze searched 7n7 for a second and found nothing. Was it a physical tablet, or something he could just conjure up here? The c00lgui had gone through a few iterations back when Doe first knew the man –

“Oh my goodness – I’m so sorry. I forgot – ah, I’m the worst guest.” Fumbling with his hands, 7n7 managed to pull up the familiar interface after a few seconds, all while nervously chuckling to himself. The amount of terror and shame the man held even in the most nonchalant of moments… surely it couldn’t be exclusively Doe’s fault? Was this what that horrible shadow meant when it alludes to 7n7’s guilt, his grief? Did he busy himself with shame boiling in his chest every single day, living like a computer stripped of its circuitry? Purposeless?

…There was that ill feeling in his body again. Doe tucked his knees to his chest and dug his bad arm into the sand to stabilize. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Don’t even breathe.

YOU HAVE EVERY REASON TO HATE ME. I’VE KILLED. IT’LL HAPPEN AGAIN. IT’S IN MY PROGRAMMING. :)

“Programming?” 7n7 didn’t exactly skim over the part about murder – his expression noticeably shifted into one of vague concern – but it didn’t appear to be his priority by any means. Doe supposed it wasn’t much of a shock to him, though hearing about the code one was dictated by very well might’ve been. Eh. Nothing new to Doe himself.

I AM DEFUNCT CODE. I AM INFECTED BY WHAT ROBLOX ABANDONED. I AM AN EMBARRASSMENT AND RIVAL TO THEM. I TAKE PRIDE IN IT. WOULDN’T YOU?

He prayed to whatever god could still see him that the answer was a firm no.

“I don’t…” When his voice trailed off, 7n7 properly met the eyes of the entity in front of him. If Doe had any spark left in him that could burn with hope, he might’ve tried to find recognition in that hauntingly familiar gaze. As it were, Doe only saw someone crushed beneath the heel of the world like a soda can before being thrown to a den of lions. That was fine. That was fine, really, because there was no string of encoded commands that told Doe he was allowed to feel like his ribs were being pulled apart over that thought.

I’M SORRY, came the next popup, unthinkingly. I SHOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT, SHOULD I HAVE?

The apology took 7n7 just as off guard as the proposal Doe had initially made. He blinked at it owlishly, then shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry, really. I just… You reminded me of…” His shoulders stiffened and then rolled backward. “Nevermind. I’m getting us off on the wrong foot, I think. I haven’t even introduced myself!” Before Doe could cling to that hint of a memory and dig his claws in until he drew blood from both of them, 7n7 extended a hand and smiled. “I’m 007n7. You… probably know about my past activity, if you’re that entangled with Roblox. I’ve changed, I assure you –”

STOP JUSTIFYING YOURSELF.

Doe’s own hand reached for 7n7’s and then promptly shrank away. His claws were too sharp and too entrenched in evil for him to find it appropriate to shake his old friend’s hand. Instead, he returned to his pit in the sand, staring at the grains of sand as they fell over the ungues spearing out from his infected fist. After a brief pause, he heard 7n7 softly hum and shift away. It was for his own good, really.

“Ahem, uh…” 7n7 fake-cleared his throat. “So… did you have plans for our meeting? I’ll admit, I didn’t have anything in mind. I hope that’s not any trouble?”

I CAN GRILL.

Could he? The moment the popup occurred, Doe wondered if he needed to take it back. Somewhere inside his web of encoded messages and ciphers that he called his brain, he felt like he remembered grilling. The taste of fresh cooked, smokey meat… Talking over the hot flame while 7n7 looked at him like he was the only man in the world…

He felt himself drooling over one of those thoughts and clenched his jaw before he could figure out which.

“You can? Huh. Well… color me impressed.” 7n7 shot a glance at Doe’s bad arm, which he’d almost forgotten about in his cycling between code and genuine pondering. Doe wrenched the hulking mass out of the sand, suppressing a grumble at the feeling of its weight once again on his body. “You don’t have to do all of that for me, though, honestly –”

I OFFERED. LET ME.

“...If you’re sure…” Though 7n7 remained looking just slightly disturbed at the notion that someone would do much of anything for him. The fact Doe couldn’t do much about it revolted him more than the expression 7n7 wore itself, so he simply shoved the thought down into the pit that was his stomach.

Heaving himself to his feet, Doe trudged up to the grill and pried the lid open with his good hand. Charred metal composed the grate, the sight of the oiled-up and yet distinctly uncleaned surface making Doe’s eye twitch. Whatever. A decent cooking surface was evidently a bit much to ask for in this place. He tried not to sigh too loudly and cast his gaze to the side. A pack of defrosted burgers that he swore weren’t there last he checked sat on a small table beside him. There was no seasoning… or toppings… or buns, actually.

If – no resources – then – humiliate yourself in front of the handsome guy.

Nice.

Cool.

THERE ARE ONLY BURGER PATTIES. YOU CAN LIVE WITH THAT. I THINK?

“There’s only – ?” 7n7 leaned back to peer around Doe, only to promptly have the statement Doe had made confirmed. He made a mildly puzzled noise before straightening up. “That’s… Well, I guess I shouldn’t have been expecting better? That’s – it’s fine. Thank you. I really don’t deserve this…”

YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN. Doe started the grill, hearing the familiar noise of the propane tank as it turned on. He didn’t turn to look at the man behind him. Focus was needed for cooking, and 7n7’s face made it so deeply hard to focus. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU THAT WAY.

“That – W… What way, exactly?” Even without looking back, Doe could somehow hear the way 7n7’s head tilted, the movement of his hand as he pressed it to his chin. His eye twitched and he tried to focus on the sound of building flames instead. Sticking his claws through the grate would probably be better than this, but then he’d repulse 7n7 even more. No matter how much Doe loathed this entire situation, there was still some sliver of a chance that he could have a fragment of his past back – that he could have him back. 7n7, in all his loving glory.

7n7, the epitome of humanity. How did he do it? Rather, what made it so hard for Doe to do whatever 7n7 had done for so long?

YOU FEEL BAD JUST FOR BEING ALIVE. I DON’T LIKE IT. I LIKE YOU TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO THINK THAT. IT’S BOTHERING ME.

“...Oh?” Despite the acknowledgement, 7n7 sounded more like he was probing for details than accepting anything. Doe fumbled for a nearby spatula – had that been there too? What was that miserable man doing to him? – and pried one of the hamburger patties out of the packaging, throwing it onto the grate. It sizzled in a way he could only interpret as a protest against being involved in this whole situation. All things considered, Doe felt remarkably similar at the moment. Trying not to let lingering feelings for a friend who never remembered him (and whom he frankly didn’t want to remember him, not like this) slip had to be one of his worse experiences in life.

That, and he swore his code was failing him. There surely wasn’t a protocol or command that would demand him to look into 7n7’s eyes until he fell in love all over again.

Doe, frustrated, jabbed his corrupted spear of an arm into the sand and seethed.

WHY ARE YOU SCARED? IS IT ME? A pause. I HOPE IT IS. :)

He felt no joy at the present situation, actually, but smiley faces fixed everything.

“No – no. You’ve… You’re a rather nice host, actually. This is much better than the alternative, I’m – you don’t scare me. Not right now. You just…” Behind him, Doe could hear 7n7 picking absentmindedly at a pebble amidst the sand. His claws twitched just at the idea that 7n7 was nearby. How long could he keep this up? How well could he maintain his fervent façade and insist he’d never looked upon 7n7 in his life? There was only so much the mangled code in his head could compensate for, and whatever memories were tethered to 7n7’s ankle certainly weren’t part of that web. “You’re familiar, that’s all.”

Somewhere in John Doe’s brain, he heard the sound of shattering glass.

YOU DON’T KNOW ME, his next popup said, because the idea of being remembered was far more terrifying than living in this endless spiral. It was so much easier when the code simply told him what to do, and yet, it’d somehow become unbearably loud and immensely unhelpful all at once. His body felt close to collapse. Nothing felt right. He wanted to be normal, but this was normal, but – but –

“I… didn’t think I did,” 7n7 conceded infuriatingly easily. “I shouldn’t ramble –”

WHO?

“Hm?”

Doe watched the spatula dig under the burger, then flipped it over. A speck of grease flew into his face. He didn’t feel conscious enough to acknowledge the burning pain on his cheek.

WHO ARE YOU THINKING OF?

“Oh, I…” 7n7 hesitated, voice thick in his throat. Doe finally chanced a look back at him, the red slit he called his right eye boring into 7n7’s chest. It had the intended effect – he swallowed and continued with nothing less than trepidation. “It’s a long story. I knew a man, once, back in… my more childish days –” The hacker times, yes. “– and he would’ve loved you.”

That was where 7n7 was wrong. Doe was the furthest thing from liking himself, largely on account of the fact he had no concept of who he even was. Was he the jumbled, discarded code that compiled so much of his mind and body? Was he the man 7n7 once knew who laughed and did barbecue and cradled his face as though he were holding the stars? Was he some anomaly, only existing out of hate and bloodthirst? Nothing felt right anymore. Nothing made sense. Everything was better when it could be sorted neatly into functions of codes, easily prompted by a trigger upon each and every little event.

7n7 was an unclassified variable in a world of binary. Utterly alluring, entrancing, something that Doe was all but desperate to comprehend, spare for the terror of how complicated it would all be.

He pressed the spatula into the burger and listened to it hiss. Somehow, a slab of meat felt more expressive than he did at any given moment. Depressing.

I’M NOT A LIKEABLE ENTITY. I’M A MACHINE. DID I NOT SAY THAT?

“No, you… did. I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, though. You’re very…” 7n7 made an awkward gesture that ultimately meant nothing. “...You have a lot of opinions. The others around me aren’t exactly keen on expressing themselves to me. Not that I blame them, just…” His shoulders slumped. “It’s nice. I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

We did, Doe yearned to say more than he yearned to stay alive.

TELL ME ABOUT THAT MAN, he said instead. I’M CURIOUS. I DON’T GET “NICE” COMPARISONS OFTEN. YOU’RE FLATTERING ME. :)

The silence stretched on for longer than typical, that time. 7n7 shifted uncomfortably on the blanket as though he couldn’t find a position that didn’t physically wound him. In the meanwhile, Doe eyed the meat on the grill as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. At this point, it was the only thing that didn’t make a queasy wave of memories resurface and scramble his mental code, so perhaps it was particularly fascinating. Or comparatively boring and therefore exceptional? …He didn’t want to overthink it, fearing it’d add some connotation onto the burger patty that would make memories squirm to the surface.

Dutiful as ever – when patty reaches medium-rare, flip; else, continue cooking – he flipped over the patty. His claws dug into the spatula enough to leave tiny dents in the handle.

“He was charming,” 7n7 started, a compliment that was enough to nearly make Doe collapse onto his knees. His corrupted arm pulsed like a heartbeat, a rapid thum-thum-thump that didn’t help his swirling stomach. Did he have some sort of disease the corruption had imparted on him, or was he truly this miserable in a man’s – this man’s – presence? “We knew each other for a while. He, uh… He helped with my misdeeds for a while, but… he stayed even after I retired. Sometimes he would help with my son. Things like that – the little things, but the things that showed… He’d always be there for me. He had a wife, but, uh… they split on good terms. So then he’d spend a lot of time with me, and I let him in, of course, and…”

7n7 didn’t need to speak the last words. The mere weight of what went unsaid weighed on Doe’s spinal cord like a brick, and frankly, the unspoken words hit as hard as one as well. His claws dragged across the spatula handle and created grooves in the fragile plastic. He put the utensil down for a moment, certain he’d break it in his fist like he did everything. Slowly, he focused back on his old friend – companion – darling dearest apple of his eye –

He focused on 7n7, humanity’s greatest.

YOU WERE FOND OF HIM.

“That’s a way to put it,” huffed 7n7 with a small chuckle. “He went missing a bit before my kid did, though. I… miss him. I don’t think I’d deserve to have him back even if he decided to just enter my life again or something. It’s… It wouldn’t be fair. Not after I failed him.”

HOW DID YOU FAIL?

“I didn’t save him. I didn’t –” 7n7’s voice cracked sharply and he swiftly fought to maintain composure. Wisely, Doe managed not to say that he wished 7n7 would cry more than he did. “I don’t know. I think I’ve let everyone around me down. That’s all.” A moment passed before he added on: “Everyone feels that way sometimes, though. Please, don’t excuse all I’ve done. It’s… It’s not right.”

Doe grabbed the spatula and pried up the burger patty. At some point, paper plates had shown up, and he scraped the meat on top of one. The edges of the plates were patterned in cartoonish burgers with buns and extra cheese. Taunting. Tempting. He supposed the Spectre did that type of thing best. It was better to curse that entity than think, for a moment, that he might’ve ever had a chance to be loved.

Even before the defunct code that had made home in his frontal lobe, Doe was certain he’d never been very pleasant. He was a silent inconvenience at his best and an utter menace at his worst, always a bit distant from the average human experience. No matter what he did, he’d never exactly be a person. At least with the tech that had taken up residence within him, he was productive and a monster. There was no real way 7n7 had tripped over his own heels all in the name of a monster who wasn’t even useful.

“...That was a lot, aha. I’m sorry. Thank you for listening, though, you’re… very good at it. I don’t get to talk to many people.” As 7n7 prattled on, Doe walked up to place the plate in front of his crossed legs. 7n7 blinked down at the patty, then looked up. “Are you not going to have one?”

I HAVE NO REASON TO EAT. EVEN IF I DID, I’VE LOST MY APPETITE.

“Oh.”

Even so, Doe took a seat beside 7n7 on the picnic blanket. The sunset had lost any charm it might’ve momentarily had. Instead, Doe found himself staring at 7n7 as he picked up the patty, winced at the grease, and took a bite. He was more stunning than any array of painterly colors.

(Something in his mind buzzed with a frenzied reminder that machines couldn’t appreciate art, so how could he tie together a sloppy artistic metaphor? Somehow, though, such a thought seemed miles away in the face of all 7n7 had said.)

The two went quiet again while Doe adjusted himself. The bulky, corrupted arm on one side dug into the ground once more, while his other hand shifted to rest in his lap. Idly, his claws tugged at the material covering his thighs, threatening to rip past clothing and into flesh each time. He wondered if he’d come back. He then wondered if it even mattered.

HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF HE CAME BACK?

Apparently, that question was a bit too direct. 7n7 nearly choked on the bite of meat he’d taken, sputtering briefly as he regained his bearings. Doe watched keenly the entire time. Only when 7n7 recovered did Doe continue, the continuous scratch-scratch of his own nails his only reprieve from the looming shadow over his mind.

YOU SAY YOU FAILED HIM. WOULD YOU WANT HIM BACK, THEN? EVEN SO?

“Of course.” It left 7n7’s mouth so easily that Doe likely would have collapsed were he still on his feet. As it were, all he did was dig his corrupted arm deeper into the ground and claw harsher and harsher at his leg. “I know I could’ve done better for him. I should’ve done better. I… I don’t know what happened to him. I want to make it right though. He was good to me – so good, and… if he ever came back…”

7n7 trailed off. How Doe hated when he did that. It left too much empty space that Doe was forced to fill with something more in the form of popup noises and actual coherent thought. His entire mental palace felt like it was crumbling around him, and all he could do was scrape at bits and pieces of debris until he had something resembling a structure. Even that felt close to toppling though, and…

…

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT ONE SUMMER NIGHT?

His gaze pried itself away from 7n7’s shimmer. It was easier to look at the barren sunset, because at least then, he wouldn’t have to feel the weight of human nature boring into his spine. Despite his efforts, the surprise in 7n7’s eventual words was enough to catch Doe off guard, and his voice surely would’ve gotten choked up if he had one to work with. Small victories.

“W – What?”

I HAD HOSTED A BARBECUE. IT WAS LATE. YOU BROUGHT HIM – saying c00lkidd’s name would hurt too bad, Doe was sure – AND WE HAD A NICE TIME. I WAS TOO TIRED TO DRIVE. YOU WERE, TOO. I SLEPT IN YOUR BED AND WOKE UP WITH YOUR HAND IN MY HAIR. The temptation to say his hair, for Doe felt so distinctly unakin to whatever darling 7n7 had apparently befriended, was unbearable. John Doe pushed on, though. He told himself that his code implored it. I STILL FEEL IT, SOMETIMES. I STILL MISS YOU, SOMETIMES.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. The false heartbeat in his arm remained the only stabilizer. Doe didn’t dare to glance back at 7n7 for even a moment, too petrified in his view of the sunset before him. A picture-perfect moment. Of course it was Doe that ruined the entire memory. No matter how hard he tried to bury himself in the web of memories and lies and superficial instructions and discarded code, he still felt 7n7 shudder beside him.

And then a familiar weight fell into his chest.

Were it not for the arm anchoring him in place, Doe was certain he would’ve toppled like a house of cards. It wasn’t that he was particularly fragile, not in the slightest, but… between the feeling of 7n7 against him for the first time in eons, the existing weight of Doe’s body, and the metaphorical heft of everything leading up to now? He felt he had some excuse to feel a bit easy to knock over. That didn’t help him with knowing what to do in the moment, with 7n7’s fists bundled in Doe’s chest and his old friend’s face buried in his chest.

7n7 didn’t dare to cry. Doe, once more, resisted the idea of begging him to crumble, too.

I’M SORRY –

“Stop. Don’t. You can’t apologize, you… I should’ve known. You never saw yourself as up to snuff, I should’ve – I don’t know, I just should’ve told you sooner, and –” 7n7’s voice cracked, and with it, his composure. He slouched forward and Doe bore the weight of the other man, finally lifting a reluctant clawed hand to rest on 7n7’s back. His spine was concealed under layers of skin and fabric. Doe didn’t envy it so much as he admire the smooth feeling, just barely letting himself indulge in the sensation. Distress signals blared in the back of his mind, reminding him how hazardous he was.

And yet, here was the smartest man Doe had ever met, utterly embracing him. That had to count for something, no?

IT ISN’T SO SIMPLE. IT’S NO MORE SIMPLE NOW THAN IT EVER WAS. I’M STILL NOT A PERSON. I NEVER WILL BE. I WOULDN’T GET YOUR HOPES UP. The c00lgui had since been pushed aside, with 7n7 having to glance to the side to get a view of what Doe was trying to communicate. Maybe it was better if he didn’t speak at all? Nothing he could say now would prove to 7n7 that he wasn’t worth the fight to love, anyway. A long-buried part of Doe simply didn’t want to fight the affection in the first place.

“I don’t care about you because things are simple. I… You’re just special. Isn’t it enough that I think you’re worth loving?” 7n7 let out something between a scoff and a laugh, his hands falling from Doe’s shirt to hold his waist. The sensation made Doe want to cringe, not out of disgust but rather an instinctive concern. He was going to hurt 7n7, he had to, he was nothing but a murderous machine, it was in his code –

I’LL GET YOU HURT.

“Everyone hurts someone, sometimes. I… I don’t think you’d hurt me on purpose? I know you. You’re plagued with something – whatever took over you and… him,” 7n7 winced, “but… you wouldn’t do it in your right mind. I know you wouldn’t. You’ll… Come on. It’s okay. Stop trying to talk me out of this. It’s not going to work.”

Pitifully, John Doe knew that 7n7 was right. His code flagged protests and errors and incessant reminders that this was a terrible, terrible idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. Detestable as it was to admit, Doe would be lying if he didn’t feel some faint echo of human spirit in his chest. Maybe there was some part that horrific code didn’t consume. Not yet.

(Perhaps not ever, so long as 7n7 stayed.)

YOU’RE A PEST. :(

“I know.”

…DON’T AGREE WITH ME. NOW I FEEL BAD. >:(

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Not the time for that, I take it…” Slowly but surely, 7n7 eased off of Doe’s chest, still hanging onto his waist like a liferaft in the endless ocean. “...I meant everything I said. I want to make it up to you. You were so good to me – I can’t believe it’s you – and… I need to make things right. Especially with your… current state.”

I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO DO ANYTHING.

“You don’t have to. I just want to make it better.”

The silence that consumed them both was calmer, this time. Doe noticed a distinct lack of buzzing in the forefront of his mind, his processors seemingly consumed with thoughts of how lovely 7n7 looked this way. He didn’t understand how he’d managed to trick someone so dashing into viewing him as human, not one bit. If 7n7 sincerely believed as much, though…

…

I HAVE ONE IDEA.

“Anything –”

Doe leaned forward to press his mouth to 7n7. It was clumsy and fairly chaste – Doe had kissed before, but not like this, not so absolutely fervently that he felt like he’d fall ill if he didn’t have it. 7n7 made no noise, though the brief tension Doe felt under his claws made it clear he was taken off guard. That didn’t stop 7n7 from melting into the kiss regardless, taking advantage of the few seconds that both of them had spent far too many lost moments of time waiting for. When Doe pulled away, it was practically dizzying, leaving his good hand trembling against where it’d trailed up to 7n7’s shoulder.

A pause fell over them.

WE CAN DO THAT MORE OFTEN. I THINK… IT’LL MAKE UP FOR LOST TIME.

It took 7n7 a bit to regain his bearings enough to look over at the c00lgui. When he did, though, he laughed to himself. Music to Doe’s ears.

“I – I agree with that much, yes.”