Be More Chill Oneshots

After the war- lil bit of Jeremy/Christine

Yes, the title is a shameless Hamilton reference. This is how I believe the hospital scene after The Play went. I'm using the actual dialogue (I have a PDF of the script) so please enjoy!

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The first thing Jeremy felt was... well, nothing, really. The climb to unconsciousness had been a long and arduous one, so even though he'd been asleep for God-knows how long, he felt incredibly tired.

When he opened his eyes, he found that he was lying in a white room, staring up a white ceiling that he didn't recognise. He couldn't hear anyone else, either, and that scared him.

"Hello?" he called. No-one answered him. He tried to sit up in an attempt to get a better look at the room he was in, but a sharp pain struck his entire body. "Ow." Thinking it was just a side-effect of not having moved for a while, he moved again, but the pain came back full-force. "Ow ow ow ow ow."

"Feels like you're missing part of yourself, doesn't it?" a voice at his side said. Jeremy slowly tilted his head to the side to see Rich lying there in an adjacent bed. He was in a full-body cast, but he was grinning mischeviously.

"...Rich?" he exclaimed, not quite believing his eyes. Rich smiled again.

"Hurts like a motherfucker too. Be honest: what are they saying about me at school?" Rich asked. Jeremy squirmed as best he could without angering his body. "That bad?"

Rich's sudden despondent tone and fallen face made Jeremy feel awful and guilty.

"Sorry," he murmured, looking to the floor. Rich looked surprised, the grin appearing again.

"Sorry?" he repeated. "I’m finally free of that shiny happy hive mind! When I get outta here, the ladies are gonna learn to love the real Richard Goranski." Then he paused for a second or so. "And the
dudes. Oh my god, I’m totally bi!"

Jeremy smiled as well, gazing at his friend's ecstatic face. One question lingered, however.

"Your Squip's gone?" he asked. "But how?"

"Ask your buddy," Rich replied. Jeremy shot him a questioning look. "Anti-social headphones kid? He’s been by like, a ton, by the way." Rich smirked. "What is he, your boyfriend?" At Jeremy's horrified look, he backtracked a little. "No judgment. Just curious. Totally bi now."

"And I'm sure some special person will be very lucky to have you, Rich," came a tired voice from the doorway. Jeremy recognised it before he even looked over. That was Michael, no questions asked. He smiled, a huge genuine smile when he saw his best friend.

Michael smiled back. He was exhausted, with huge bags under his eyes and his hair an absolute mess, but Jeremy needed him and his best friend was more important than sleeping more than 2 hours a night. He made his way over to Jeremy's bedside, the place he'd been haunting for the past week or so: he wasn't sure how long it had been.

"You think?" Rich piped up hopefully from the other bed. Michael nodded wearily, grabbing the heaven-sent, aptly-named privacy curtain and pulling it around Jeremy's bed so Rich was blocked from view.

"What happened?" Jeremy asked quietly, his voice thin and hoarse from disuse. "All I remember is that noise and..."

He trailed off. Michael looked incredibly excited, and quickly launched into an explanation.

"Oh man, it was genius!" he exclaimed. "They were communicating with each other – they were linked!" Jeremy gave him a look. "Which means… when you consider the kind of high-frequency sonic disturbance needed to wipe a system that powerful…"

"Michael," Jeremy interrupted as Michael's voice got louder and louder in that adorable way it did when he got excited. "My head still hurts."

"Right, ah…" Michael mumbled, lowering his voice as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Turns out you didn’t have to destroy every Squip. Just one. And the rest…" he mimed explosions. "Boom boom boom."

There was a moment of silence before Jeremy reached painfully up and pulled Michael into a tight hug. Despite the fact he was nearly choking and couldn't breathe properly, Michael smiled and hugged back as best he could with his arms pinned to his sides.

"I don’t get it," Jeremy mused, letting Michael go. "After everything I did… You were still there for me. Why?"

"I can’t take all the credit. Your dad can be shockingly persuasive," Michael replied. Jeremy could tell that he was trying not to smile, but it wasn't working very well. A grin was creeping onto a face.

"My dad?" Jeremy said, making sure that the two were on the right track.

Michael nodded, biting his lip with his eyes bright as Jeremy's dad emerged from behind the curtains. Jeremy couldn't help but think about the perfectly orchestrated timing.

That wasn't the first thing he noticed though. No, the first thing he noticed was that his dad was wearing pants. Not pyjama pants, either. Actual proper pants.

"Jeremy, are you okay?" Mr Heere asked worriedly, taking a seat on the plastic chair next to Michael.

"Actually, I’m great—" Jeremy smiled, but that's as far as he got before his dad interrupted.

"I’m glad," he said. "Because you’re grounded. You’re going to see some serious changes, young man, starting…" He stopped, spotting Jeremy's grin. "What?"

"Dad… You’re…wearing…" Jeremy stammered. Mr Heere nodded.

"Don’t look so surprised," he replied. "I’m your father. And I wear the pants around here! Now let’s get down to business:" he leant forward." Who’s this Christine person, and why did I have to hear about her from him?"

He gestured to Michael, who pushed his glasses up nervously and waved a little. Jeremy felt his feelings sink, looking hastily down and picking at the bedcovers.

"It doesn’t matter. After what I did, I’m lucky if she wants to go to the same school as me," he muttered. He stopped as he saw Michael and his dad exchange a look. "What?"

"It’s reassuring," Michael said, now doubly-unable to keep the grin off his face. "He still doesn’t know anything about girls."

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Hope you enjoyed! Peace out, my dudes!