#dftr3

It wasn’t working, the night was keeping him up or someone had to be dreaming about him because Michael was left alone in a foreign room with just his thoughts and the warmth of his best friend. He silently counted down seconds, feeling like each one was teasing him and purposely going as slow as goddamn possible. After five minutes Michael glanced back at the clock to realize only a single minute had actually passed, a soft growl of frustration echoing in the room.

Michael waited in bed before his thoughts began to catch up to him, just like they typically would on the nights he didn’t cry himself to sleep. He thought about what to buy for groceries, what to bring into work if they ever got back to work... Maybe he would see what fancy “AU”’s the fans were sparking up. Michael was always interested in new roleplays, ideas he could fiddle with on the nights he needed to do something.

Well, not every AU had to be fictional. Michael began to think about the idea, pondering upon the String Theory, a nifty little quantum gravity trick. Michael didn’t get quantum gravity (he wasn’t that smart) but the idea of every particle being joined together by a string intrigued him. Theoretically, every path, every choice, would lead to a different version of this universe. It was possible, in an infinite number of universes, Michael was actually Sun Wukong, leaping through the streets of Vale and fighting side by side with Blake. In another he could be Mogar, the superhero (or villain but Michael wanted to be optimistic) fighting with X-Ray and Vav...

In an infinite number of universes...

Then there was a universe where no one hated him and he was very much loved. Michael’s heart gave a lurch as he realized what he could be implying. He was currently living in a universe where that was the case. Michael sat up and looked around the room with fresh eyes. 

In an infinite number of universes, Geoff sees snakes everywhere.

In an infinite number of universes, Jack and Jeremy don’t remember who they are.

In an infinite number of universes, Pat can’t draw.

The idea was just surfacing, pushing against a thin membrane separating it between conscious understandable thought and the muddled ocean of thoughts yet to be thought. It gave a mighty shove before popping into Michael’s brain, his hazel eyes widening and illuminated only by the moonlight seeping in from the curtains.

We could all be from different universes, all joining together for the first time in this one...

Michael’s head spun with the revelation, a sickly feeling nestling in his heart as he realized, if what he gathered was true, he’d be returned to his dimension at the end of this week... Which was today. 

The hero swallowed a choke, eyes watering as things began to clear up for him. Jack would never know the Hunters loved him and not some Bullet Beard rip off. Jeremy would be homeless, thinking he’d destroyed Boston. Geoff would see snakes and he’d... 

He’d go back to being hated and the thought made Michael sick. With great difficulty Michael stepped out of the room, easing the door closed before making his way to the bathroom. The light blinded him, his pupils fighting to relieve the ache as soon as possible as Jones stumbled to the sink, turning on the faucet and rubbing some cool water onto his face.

Tomorrow he could (and likely would) wake up glancing at the the same peeling apartment ceiling with the same lifeless eyes... He shuddered before scrubbing his face against with water, drying off with Jack’s borrowed shirt. 

Well, if he was leaving, might as well leave a thank you present.

And that’s how Michael ended up back in the living room, the blue glow from his laptop illuminating his face, giving it an eerie Creepypasta-esque tone. The webcam barely registered him but video wasn’t much of a worry, just audio. With a heavy sigh Michael hit record and glanced up in the camera lens.

“Hey other me. In case you do forget who I am, I’m you from another dimension. Don’t go crazy and call me bullshit, no you weren’t drunk, let me explain myself. 

“There is a theory called the String Theory. It’s based on quantum gravity shit I don’t understand so you probably don’t but basically every particle in the world is connected by a string and each string vibrates at different frequencies. Or something like that. When this happens it enables us to live in different universes at the same time. For example..” Michael gently clapped his hands together, the soft “poof” of sound barely audible.

“In another dimension, I didn’t clap just then, I snapped. In another I didn’t clap at all. This is all possible because of the String Theory. Now, if I’m from a different timeline, why am I in your universe? Good question. I think this Reaper fucker managed to bring all different versions of you and your buds together into this universe and at the end of the week he’ll send us all back. Of course, I could be talking through my ass but just in case that’s the case, he’s going to send me back to a universe where you fucked up real bad and killed someone. Everyone, literally everyone, hates my guts for it. I wasn’t even invited to the burial, I just stood outside like a kicked puppy...

“Either way, there’s a chance I return to that tomorrow and when I came here people were really nice. And I’d like to thank them so if you don’t mind just showing this video to Geoff, Jeremy, Jack, and I think Joel. He’s not getting a thanks, just a heads up.” Michael waited patiently for a few minutes, licking his chapped lips before continuing.

“Geoff, thank you for taking the time to make sure I was okay from the get go. Granted, you lied to my face, saying the dude is okay and he’s alive and all. I bet if I go to the cemetery I’ll see his grave and shit... But thanks. For once in my life I felt at home and really really loved. You gave me a chance when no one in my timeline would’ve.

“Jack, sorry I probably looked really weird asking you if you knew who the Hunters were and if you knew what Rooster Teeth was. But seriously dude, Missile Mustachio? Get a better name. Thank you for being the kind mama bear you were before all of the shit went down. You were still kind even though you didn’t know my face, my story, or anything. Also you were like, the coolest fanboy. 

“Jeremy... I want you to know no matter what universe you’re in, I will always love you. Maybe not at first but gradually I will. It’s too late to tell you when we return you should just look for me and I’ll give you a roof and stuff but either way, you should know I love you. 

“Joel, fuck you for scaring Jeremy. If there’s anything I learned while I was here it’s you can’t force your reality on others. People are really attached to what they think is their present and freaking out on Jeremy was kinda unnecessary.

“Oh wait, and Pat! Pat dude you came in and talked to me like I was your boyfriend and you were so nice. I would be a really lucky guy if we ever dated so now me, you’re lucky as shit okay?” Michael racked his brain for anyone else, any honorable mentions...

“...Alright I think that’s it. This video wasn’t meant to make you all sob or shit so don’t start crying on me you assholes. But since I don’t have to deal with the embarrassment later...

“I love you guys. Like full on heart to heart really really fluffy love you guys. You mean the world to me and I hope I’m treating you right in this world. Thanks.” Michael gave a small smile before reaching forward and pausing, saving the video and labeling it with “WATCH ME!” The laptop was gently picked up and brought back to the bedroom, Michael starting to feel sleep nestle on the tips of his lashes.

He set the computer on the night stand, sliding back into bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow... Tomorrow... He found the digital clock again, watching the minutes spill into hours and watching the hours flicker to midnight. When nothing happened Michael shrugged, rolling onto his side to continue watching the clock. Maybe at a different hour...