S'uh dude!

“The Jims are out of sync.” King’s getting restless, leg bouncing beneath the table, avoiding looking at anyone or anything in particular. The lights, the air, and the din of humanity bustling around them is slowly burrowing its way under his skin. The only thing keeping him half-sane right now is the gentle scrape as he slides the salt shaker between his hands on the table. “They think we haven’t noticed but we have.”

“Out of sync?”

King pauses, shuffling in his seat as he thinks.

“You know how they would always say everything at exactly the same time, no matter what it was and it was so annoying?”

“You’re the only one who finds it annoying.” Bing chuckles.

“He’s not.” Bim mutters.

“The point,” King cuts in, “they aren’t any more. They go to say something but one’s always like a second too early, or says something completely different.” He remembers the first time it happened. The way the Jims’ eyes just went wide and they immediately ran.“It’s weird.”

It’s definitely weird. For longer than Bing’s even known the Jims they’ve always worked as one. They’ve moved, acted, thought, decided as a single person and while yeah it’s weird, you get used to it.

“Do we know why?”

King snorts, going back to sliding the salt back and forth.

“They’re the Jims, who knows why they do anything?”

“Be nice.” Bim reminds him.

It’s no secret; King has never gotten along with the Jims. They’re extroverted, over the top, and reckless at the best of times while King is more reserved, introverted, and generally hateful towards humanity. Still, that’s no reason to be rude.

“We don’t know.” Green finally answers, “They refuse to acknowledge it.”

Damn. If a Jim doesn’t want to talk, there is no known force in the universe that can change their mind. They’re not allowed outside the building so they know every nook and cranny where they can hide away. Once they stayed hidden for two months, only surfacing to steal food from the kitchen, just to avoid being questioned about who broke something in the clinic.

Taking another bite Bing wonders what could be going on with them when he spies a sly glance from Bim aimed at King. The cyborg looks over; King’s not looking but his brow is furrowed and he shakes his head. Bim raises his eyebrows pointedly.

“What?”

They startle, eyes going wide as they realise he saw them. Bing frowns. That’s totally not suspicious or worrying at all.

“Seriously guys, what?”

“Mad moved in.” Green’s blunt in his answer, the others turning to him and trying to hush him. Bing just stares in shock, a fry half way to his mouth suddenly forgotten.

“He what?”

“So much for breaking it gently.” King mutters, sinking into his seat.

Bing shakes his head. “I thought he was staying at the warehouse?”

A lot had happened while Bing was out of it and since then there’d been weeks of trying to sort it all out. Some people chose to leave, some wanted to stick around, and Dark offered for Mad to move into the building if he wanted. An invitation that the madman made stupidly clear the lot of them could shove where the sun doesn’t shine. Even after Natemare took the offer, Mad just said to lose his number and leave him alone.

“That was the plan.” Bim starts.

“Then what the heck?!”

Bing’s fist slams down, rattling the table and drawing the attention of several people nearby.

Bim looks between the cyborg’s fist and his face, not looking amused. “Feel better?”

The cyborg uncurls his fingers. His right hand. He keeps forgetting it’s stronger since his upgrade. Luckily he didn’t leave an impact on the table

“I’m fine.” he mutters. He clearly isn’t.

Green shifts, leaning over while making sure to keep his hand on Bing’s suitcase by his side.

“The warehouse burned down. Mad needed somewhere to stay and honestly we need his help with our processors.”

His voice is low, stern, very matter-of-fact. A clear indication that this is the end of this conversation.

Bing bites the inside of his lip. In Goog’s emails he’d said they were working on new emotional processors for the other Googles, now that they knew they had a limited life-span before they burned out too. Given the extreme circumstances Goog’s new one was made under, they wanted to fine-tune it before making a new one for the others.

Sure that would be easier with Mad’s help, after all no one knows anything near what he does about robotics, but that doesn’t change what a colossal self-serving buttwipe the guy is. Not to mention that he’d probably betray them all at the drop of a hat if it suits what he wants.

Bing drops the fry onto his plate and slumps in his seat. He’s not hungry any more.

Bim’s stopped eating too, and King’s clearly overstimulated. Green stands up, looking between them.

“I think it’s time we went home.”

“Agreed.” Bim nods.

“Finally.” King all but leaps out his seat, shaking away his discomfort.

Bing absently nods in agreement as he stands. At this point he just wants to be home.