Archive of Our Own ^beta

MePad and Toilet talked for a long time. They discussed their feelings (namely, the romantic ones) and whether they'd like to pursue a relationship. (Yes.)

After a lot of discussion, it turned out neither of them wanted that much to change. Overall, it boiled down to they liked one another and didn't want to be separated. Neither of them would mind more physical affection, but they weren't starving for it. Mostly, it would just be more of the friendship they already had, a more deliberate version, and MePad was looking forward to every minute of it.

And, as was natural, they touched again on their fears. Toilet had spent most of MePad's absence in a hazy, irritable state of mourning. MePad was, of course, wrestling with what was a "reasonable expectation for the future" and what was "the kind of thinking that got him into this mess."

Eventually, Toilet had gotten to telling MePad about the loops where he'd hung out with MePhone3GS and Mecintosh. For the most part, MePad had been right, they had been good for each other. Aside from that one time.

Toilet was having trouble keeping it straight, what happened in what order, and MePad didn't blame him. Unfortunately, it made it a bit hard to follow.

It got even harder to follow when Toilet started to doze off. He shook himself awake once, it wasn't incredibly effective. MePad didn't really mind. His internal clock was fairly certain it was midday, but he wouldn begrudge anyone a nap.

Especially not Toilet, who he got the impression likely had not been sleeping while MePad did.

Eventually the door quietly creaked open. MePhoneX stood, peeking through the threshold.

He felt a little embarrassed, being caught cuddling with someone. He hadn't ever been one to display physical affection much (there were not very many convenient ways to do so, having no arms) but he'd watched Toilet die. He'd watched a lot of people die. It was nice to feel the solid weight against him, to know it meant he was okay. Maybe he'd be more touchy-feely, as he returned to interacting with others.

But, X only really paused a moment before coming in slowly. He, being the conduit with which MePad and Toilet interacted all that time, was probably used to them.

He picked up the visitor chair and placed it, carefully upright and next to the bed. Then, he settled into it. In one hand he had a pen fashioned to look like a wrench, in the other he held a plain yellow legal pad.

MePad thought he was staring, thoughtfully, down at his papers. It was difficult to tell where he was looking.

MePad pulled up an on-screen textbox, and typed in it, "Do you want to talk?"

X nodded, holding up his legal pad again, to make sure MePad could see it. Then, he started to write.

And MePad was paitent. (Or, at least, he made sure the settings menus he was going through didn't show up on his screen. If he was going to be connected to wireless, he couldn't be configured the way he had been.)

When he was ready, X put the pad in front of MePad's face. His eyes adjusted quickly, but reading it wasn't that simple. He squinted at the large, messy letters. He thought they read, "GLAD YOU'RE NOT DEAD."

It took physical effort to not respond out loud. He clicked his volume all the way down, to try and make it easier, and typed back, "The feeling is mutual. I care about you. I had been meaning to ask, is your other body…?"

He left the question unasked. He wasn't sure how to phrase it politely.

X shook no, shoulders hunching a bit. It took him a bit to write back, of course. And MePad, of course, got to use that time to stew internally (but, hopefully not too 'loudly') about how that confrontation had went down.

For a moment, he thought on the chaos and his knee jerk reaction was that he had been useless. But, then he remembered that he'd needed to be repaired because of doing too much, so that probably wasn't true.

Being objective about himself was so tough, he wondered if it was this difficult for everyone.

The next message from X, written in letters big and careful, said something like, "NOT THAT BAD. DON'T HAVE TO 'LISTEN' MUCH. GOOD. 4 IS LOUD." He was less wordy like this, though part of that was because MePad couldn't read some of the in-between words.

Right, 4 is loud. At first, he thought that was an unrelated statement to the previous. But, then he remembered. X had explained connecting to his other body once, he'd had to "listen more" if they were further apart.

MePhone4 was a loud thinker, then. That wasn't surprising, considering the way everything he did was loud. "So, you get more time without others' thoughts. Is that nice?"

As X formulated his next response, MePad tried not to let his mind wander that scene where X had lost a body.

He focused on Toilet instead. He was snoring. It was cute, the way his lid rattled against his rim. (He wasn't sure what level of snoring was medically concerning, and so he was going to assume it was fine for now.) He hadn't realized Toilet snored, but then, he hadn't shared sleeping quarters with him before. With anyone other than MePhone4.

Yellow in front of his face. Oh, it was time to read. The first two sentences were smaller, and he thought they said… "HAVING ONE BODY ISN'T THAT BAD YEAH. HURT, WHEN IT HAPPENED. DOESN'T MATTER." Then, much larger and much easier to read, "CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO NOW?"

… MePad just displayed a question mark.

It took X much longer to write the next part, he kept crossing things off, and pausing, and by the time he held it up for MePad to see again, his other arm was shaking. The legible part was concise. "FATHER IS GONE. WHAT DO I DO?"

Oh. "You get to decide that, now."

If X could have rolled his eyes, MePad got the sense he would've. The next time he held it up, he was on a fresh page. "MEPAD IS AWAKE, X NEEDS DIRECTION, WHAT DO I DO?" He'd underlined the word do several times, adding layers of emphasis.

"Why you are asking me, specifically?" He typed, careful to keep his face blank. (It was not that hard.)

X got stiffer, writing the next part. "FUNCTION: SERVE FATHER. MePAD: INTELLEGENT. TRUSTWORTHY. ASSIGN NEW PURPOSE, PLEASE."

He was touched, he was glad he'd given him a good impression (despite the mess he'd been, and still was). However… "It does not work that way. I could give you suggestions, but you have autonomy now."

MePhoneX flung his hands up in the air, exasperated.

"X, wait." He started to lean forward, to give X clearer attention, but suddenly remembered Toilet was mostly laying on him, and had to stay still. The issue was becoming obvious. "I am not going to replace your father. Do you miss him?"

X shook no, rapidly. And, MePad was surprised. It was supposed to be a rhetorial question, to steer the topic. Last he'd checked, X loved his father, deeply.

X wrote rapidly. When he held the paper up there were a lot of words, but MePad couldn't read most of them. They were scrawled like a ghost's message in a horror movie, but shakier. More upset. It said things like, "EVERYONE HAPPY," "BAD PERSON," "MURDERER."

Ah. If Cobs died, everyone would be celebrating, wouldn't they? (Unless they were tired of parties by now.) But that wasn't the point, was it? "Yes, everyone around here dislikes him. But do you miss him?"

X shook no again.

"You are allowed to miss him."

X threw his paper as hard as he could against one of the walls, watching as it fell to the floor with the relatively gentle sound of pages fluttering. He wasn't looking at MePad anymore. Which, effectively prevented him from seeing what MePad had to say. Great.

He wasn't sure how to handle this, exactly. Grief was hard, especially when you were the only one mourning. MePad would know. He'd just been dealing with that.

But, he was one of the people who didn't like Cobs. If things had gone down differently, he could have been the very one to kill him.

He settled for displaying, "Come sit with me." Eventually, X would glance over and see it. Probably.

This was not a great situation to be suddenly fatherless in.

The others who could get it, Cobs' other creations, were all so… Vengeful. And rightfully so, the man was not a good parent, or boss, or whatever. But, X was still struggling with the concept he was allowed to be a person with feelings. (MePad was, too.) He was still struggling with doing anything against Cobs' will.

Or, maybe that wasn't entirely true. MePhoneX was suprisingly willing to do many things, as long as they hadn't been expressly forbidden. He allowed himself to think and listen even when not asked to, he followed MePad's lead because Cobs hadn't said not to, he was okay with learning to communicate as long as Cobs couldn't see (and, again, tell him not to). He did have a rebellious nature in there, it was just filtered through the lens of what he could get away with, what he wouldn't have consequences for.

But, now he didn't have any structure, did he? (He had come asking for instructions, before MePad started prying. He felt like far too big a mess to be in charge of anyone, right now.)

Maybe X came to MePad because MePad struggled with rules. Because he was the most rigid out of any of them. (That burned, in a way. Was he really the closest to Cobs? He didn't like to think that. He could try to convince himself it was simpler, that X just trusted him. They spent time together, MePad was his first friend, right? But, on the other hand, maybe denial wasn't the best way to deal with this particular kind of fear.)

Maybe the contestants would understand, if they examined their own relationship with MePhone? It wasn't the same, though. They all just thought of him as a showrunner, not as a creator, until… However long ago the first version of That Day counted as. Meanwhile, the Meeple were born knowing they had been artificially created for-

A hand gently clinked against his side, and MePad realized he'd stopped paying attention to his surroundings again. He blinked a couple times, finally noticing that X had moved the chair closer to MePad's bedside.

He'd meant for X to come sit on the bed with him, but honestly with both him and Toilet already here, that would be pretty difficult to coordinate. And so, he displayed what he'd wanted to say before. "It is okay to love someone, even if they are bad."

X stared back at him, and MePad was struck by how quiet this room was. Toilet was snoring, but the light did not buzz. The TV did not crackle or whine. There was no wind to rustle the papers (which X had not yet picked up.) There were no windows to the outside to hear animals through, or weather, or the distant sounds of people.

X could have been a statue.

So, MePad kept typing. "You never expected to outlive him. I am still sort of shocked with what happened, myself. But you loved him, and that is okay. It is okay to miss him. It is okay to want him back. Even if no one else does."

His arms were shaking. How alone must he feel?

"I cannot replace him, and neither can 3GS, or Mecintosh, and especially not 4. But we-" Before MePad was finished writing, X lunged for him. He collided with MePad's side, wrapping his arms around him in a sudden, desperate kind of way.

Toilet snorted, blinking awake. "Wha'zot?"

MePad clicked his volume back on. "We need to scooch over a little."

He nodded, clumsily, and rolled to the other side of the bed. MePad shifted by an inch or two. This was not a bed built for three people. X hadn't let go of him yet.

"Unfortunately, you are in charge of your own destiny." He whispered, feeling every twitch and tremor against him. It felt like sobbing. "But, I will be here for you. We will."

"A friendly deed's a pal of mine." Toilet rolled back towards X's side of the bed, face resting against one of his arms.

He had no clue what he meant by that, but it sounded positive, so he hummed a note of agreement. They sat like that, surrounded by stillness.

(But, with comfort too. His blanket with its flowers. How kind a gesture for someone who might never wake up again.)

… Someone was snoring.

Toilet had already returned to sleep.

Impressive.

But, of course, X hadn't relaxed yet. So, MePad wasn't going to, either. He, awkwardly, pulled a leg out from under the covers to wrap around X's back as some further physical reassurance, aside from whatever he was offering by letting himself be held. Toilet slept, and X was wracked with silent sobs, and MePad just hoped being here was enough.

(He shouldn't have pushed the issue so much. And, yet, he was probably the first one who'd thought to even ask. MePad loved the contestants dearly, but who of them would look at X and consider his emotional wellbeing? Maybe a couple of them could, but who would consider Cobs' death as anything but a boon to this world?)

Another text came through. From X.

⌨️❔ A computer's keyboard and a question mark.

He texted back: A computer, as in Mecintosh?

🚫 A red circle with a slash through it, a fairly standard symbol for Don't. No, he'd guessed wrong.

As he was pondering this, another text arrived: 🔠 A blue, square emoji with the first four capital letters in the English alphabet.

Oh, right.

MePad pulled up his onscreen keyboard, positioning it high up so Toilet didn't block any of the letters. He felt a bit silly, this was how they always communicated.

X held onto him, still, with one hand and lifted the other to slowly, gently type. "Thank you. Easier. I hate writing."

He did fairly well, for someone who'd only been trying for a week or so. Honestly, MePhone4's memories revealed he was at a very similar level when he started.

But, X wasn't done. "I do miss him. I miss MeCloud. I miss MeTags. I miss tasks and completing them on time. I miss my other body sometimes, except I don't because everyone is so loud, but they don't know they're loud and everybodys different adn people are scared of me which is ok im supposed to be scary except when they get scared of me they get even more loud-"

The longer he went, the faster he got. But, he also got more careless with his wording and punctuation. MePad removed the keyboard, just for a moment, so he could get a response in edgewise. "Do I need to talk to them about not pushing you so much?"

He brought it right back, and X barely missed a beat getting back to typing. "nobody pushes me, its ok, but also its not because-"

And he paused. And MePad held his breath.

X flexed his claw a couple times before getting the gumption to raise it and type again. "mepad im obselete. hes gone and no one needs me"

MePad understood. MePad understood exactly what it felt like, staring your own obselesence in the face.

He sighed, looking past X's shoulder to see the little TV. He remembered the moment when he really, actually registered that MePhone had done a whole new Season without him. He remembered how untethered he felt.

Adrift. Flotsam, not jetsam.

Then, he pulled X closer, close enough that looking was useless. He squeezed his eyes shut and, finally, MePad started to whisper back. "I understand. I was expecting to die, too. I am so, so sorry. It is so very difficult sometimes. It feels pointless, going from someone that was needed to someone like us."

X wrapped his free arm back around MePad. He kept whispering.

"I apologize for pushing back so much, I can give you suggestions for what to do next. Make friends, explore the world until something else tethers you. I was lucky enough to already have connections. But, until I go to the landfill, I will be here for you."

X squeezed tighter.

"He did not love you, but you loved him. He represented stability, and routine, and expectation. Those things died with him, did they not?"

He thought he felt X nod against him. It was hard to be sure, he was still shaking.

"We will face this great unknown together." He couldn't tell X who to be. Everyone had to find that out for themselves, right? But, what was the phrase? No man is an ocean? "I will be going to the mainland, I think. Mister Toilet and I, we made plans. There are room in those plans for you."

He definitely felt a nod, this time.

Something gently clinked against MePad's screen, and he realized he'd put his face in the way of some of the letters. Oops, layering issue. He fixed it, and X typed, much slower than he had been before.

(He had to pull away a little to do it, the main inconvenience of this method. He felt the loss keenly.)

X sunk a little closer to MePad again, and he took that as his cue to read. "I would like to leave with you. I can't bear to look at his body, but I can't stay away either."

His body. Cobs', after what happened. It was so strange to think of that as a real event, when he'd been asleep during it. But, he was dead, and X couldn't stay away? From…

MePad whispered back, "You mean, his grave?"

And, again, he pulled away. "No. His body."

MePad squinted at X. "Did they not bury it?" He would've burnt it by now, personally. (Or threw it to the sea, or stomped on it until it was but dust, scattered by the wind. You know, something like that.)

Burials were traditional. If left to their own devices, wouldn't the Contestants-

Wait. The only permanent dead this island had ever had were Meeple (who, as far as MePad knew, had mostly ended up in the same small body of water and did not need to be moved) Dough (who was too eaten to be buried) and Bow (also in the water.) He suddenly understood the issue.

"We can bury him, X. I am happy to dig the hole myself, if that would help you mourn."

He nodded back, then typed, "I could dig the hole. I don't have a shovel. I don't mind doing tasks."

"You keep mentioning tasks. Has anything been asked of you at all, since-"

X shook his hand no.

"Do the others talk to you?" He was sure a lot of the contestants found X frightening, with his role in the mess. But, it couldn't all of them, right?

X shrugged. MePad waited for him to type some sort of an answer, but he didn't.

"Come on, you wanted my advice. Who have you talked to?"

No eyes to roll, and yet, the gesture was conveyed. He did start typing, though.

"Cherries is fine, they get it. Box is nice. Mecintosh is fine until he starts thinking about Her. Taco is fine unless she thinks about you." Yeah, no, MePad was not looking forward to that one.

But, X wasn't done, so he waited.

"Everybody who's not scared expects me to act like some kind of person though, they ask me a question and they want a quick answer. So I write fast. But, then they can't read my handwriting! I just want it to back to the way it was." He entered the period with a note of finality, leaning back on one of his hands in a way that spoke of exhaustion.

"What if you could type all the time?" He waited a beat, but X didn't sit up straight, so he kept whispering. "We could get you a MePad. The, uh, commercial variety."

A shrug.

"We also might be able to get you a large, real keyboard with some kind of device to hook it up to. A computer? Or, perhaps… What are they called?" He knew there were devices you typed on that spoke for you. "That said, you are an electronic device yourself. Maybe we can program some kind of an app that circumvents your programming in some way, or- Can you playback recorded sounds?"

Another shrug, this one after a moment of thought. Not that he didn't care, but he wasn't sure.

"If you can, we might be able to get you a couple more phrases, so you can respond to more than yes and no questions. But, you are allowed to send emojis, if we made a simple code where each emoji stands for a particular letter-"

Toilet snorted and MePad realized he was getting too excited and starting to not whisper. He sat very still until the normal, rhythmic snoring resumed.

X sat up again, finally leaning forward to answer. "Being able to talk to people is fine, but I want to Do stuff, too."

MePad, suddenly not trusting himself to be quiet, returned to typing. "I think the two things are connected, if you can talk to others, you can ask them if they need help. You said The Cherries were okay, right? Maybe you can get something from a high shelf?"

Another shrug, this one seemed disinterested, and understandably. That was a nothing suggestion. He didn't really know the kinds of everyday tasks MePhoneX was used to. (Did he need a hobby where he persistently worked on the same thing over a long period? Did he crave variety? Was he used to lifting things? Organizing things?)

MePad was beginning to feel very much out of his depth. Was he going about this all wrong? In the long term, yes, setting yourself up with a routine was good, but was effective conversation really the best short-term goal?

He sighed.

"It must be frustrating with me, the only person you can effectively talk to being such a," he lingered, trying to find a synonym that wasn't as mean to himself as the first word that came to mind. "brick wall. My approach has its merits, I think if people know you and trust you, they will be more likely to ask for your help with things. But, if that is not what you want to focus on right now, I am struggling to find a next step. And earlier, you wanted simple advice, and yet I made us dwell on your grief! I have been very rude."

And that was a big wall of text. Another difficulty with being the only person X could really talk to, he was sure.

MePad made himself sit very still as X took his chance to respond.

"It's a little annoying, I guess." MePhoneX shrugged as soon as he was finished typing that sentence, but he didn't lean back again. He tapped his own screen thoughtfully. "I know what you're like though, and I like talking to you. I missed you when you were gone. So, it's fine."

That was an incredibly sweet sentiment and MePad found himself relaxing into the pillow behind him again, letting some of that tension go. He displayed, "Thank you. I am so glad I got to meet you."

That wasn't everything he wanted to say, but that was fine, because he wasn't sure he had the words for everything he wanted to say today.

X only got a few letters into his next message before he, suddenly, whirled around to look at the door.

MePad felt 20 degrees colder. Thoughts clashed in his head, part of him arguing that Cobs was dead (but he hadn't seen his body) that Toilet was here and safe (but MePad didn't know how to teleport away from this room) the time loop was over (but he hadn't died and checked.)

The door started to swing open and MePad's view was suddenly blocked by MePhoneX's back, and that horrible logo, and he couldn't see the door, and he wanted to scream.

There was horrible, awful, suffocating silence.

"Mind loosening up?" Toilet squeaked, and MePad realized he was. He hadn't noticed he'd wrapped his other leg around him, (or that he'd woken, or how tight his grip was).

He was struggling, now, to make himself loosen his hold.

But he did. A smidge.

"Do you, uh. Need a minute?" He relaxed his hold a little more, hearing Suitcase's voice. "I'm sorry if I walked in on something-"

X leaned out of the way and lowered his stance from- Okay, yes, the "holding both arms out to block as much of MePad and Toilet as possible" pose was sweet but, also, incredibly suspicious.

"We are fine. Everything is alright." MePad declared, partially for his own benefit. "I was startled."

Toilet floated out of his hold, did a spin, and settled back down next to him. "Oh! Yeah, we was just talking about, er. Something or another."

MePhoneX did a motion MePad didn't know how to fully describe. He held his arm like someone might, offering it to someone to walk home. But, he swooshed it downward in an arc across his body.

It looked like something somebody in an incredibly old movie would do to express they were "just dandy!" It was certainly not something people did in real life.

They all looked at each other for a moment, and then another. "I think if I am to keep on living I may require therapy."

Suitcase laughed, her own posture relaxing. "Yeah, welcome to the club. But, um, seriously, if I need to come back-"

X shook no quickly, then went to pick up his legal pad. He quickly jotted something down and handed it to her.

"That's, uh. I'll be honest with you, Mister X, I can't read this."

He took it back from her and handed it to MePad. Now it was his turn to squint down at it. "Murderer? No, that is the wrong part of the page, apologies. He says that… I, the I being X in this case, needs to go and. Did you just write the word excuse?"

When MePad looked back up, he shrugged.

"You could not come up with one?"

He shook no.

"You could ask around about a shovel." MePad suggested. "Or, see if anyone possesses a MePad. I mean- the inanimate, you understand."

He nodded because he did, in fact, understand.

"I used to know where to find a shovel." Said Toilet. "There was one with my trimmers, but these days- whoa!"

MePhoneX scooped up Toilet, arms wrapped securely around his base in very much the way someone would carry a bag of grain.

"Oh, I guess I'm goin'!" He said as X scooched towards the door.

X turned invisible, but Toilet didn't. Of course, it didn't look at all odd to see him float in the air. But, what was unusual was the way he was held to be constantly facing Suitcase as X seemed to try to get out the door while giving her as wide a margin as possible.

"See ya in a bit!" Toilet smiled at MePad as he made eye contact, and then he was gone from view.

And then it was the two of them.

Suitcase was smiling, nervously. She probably had been the whole time, he hadn't been paying much attention to her. "Uh, I'll give them a minute and then- I should probably go too, haha. Just, uh, wanted to check up on you. Not for any particular reason, I mean!"

She was acting weird. "It is alright if you were worried about me. I seem to have that effect on people."

Her eyes weren't focused, and her expression slowly drooped into a more neutral one. MePad felt his own face flex with concern. He'd seen her do that before, lost in spiraling thoughts. (He'd learned, at Taco's comandeered challange, that Suitcase experienced hallucinations.)

"Is there anything I can-" He started to ask.

Suitcase shook herself, eyes deliberately locked on to something that wasn't him. She wore a familiar smile. "Mhm! Good talk." She turned, abruptly, and left.

…

What just happened?

[Does anyone know if I am allowed to get up?]

(🤷‍♀️)

{prolly but ask mstt}

(do NOT, aisle get u!!!! omg just SIT!)

[I accept my current stationary existence. However, I wanted to ask. Who is the fourth person in this chat? 3GS, 4, X, MePad, and…?]

(oh 4s lol)

[MePhone4S is alive?!]

Several people are typing…