Work Text:
Tracklist:
- Mac Quayle - 1.0_8-whatsyourask.m4p (Mr. Robot Soundtrack)
- Mac Quayle - 1.2_1-IwillbeCTO.m4p (Mr. Robot Soundtrack)
- Ryuichi Sakamoto - Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence
—
“Supernova Repair: Repair that reaches for the stars. Harlan speaking, how can I help you? Uh-huh. Yeah, we can fix that. Bring it by the shop and we’ll take a look at it. Alright, see ya.”
Harlan hung up the phone and patted Adam’s shoulder softly.
“Might have a customer coming in this afternoon with a broken computer.”
“Did they make an appointment?”
“Not in so many words.”
“But Harlan, customers should make an official appointment so that we can—”
“Adam, part of the business is going with your gut. And as much as I’d like to sit here and make appointments all day, that doesn’t mean people are gonna keep ‘em.” He looked down at his watch. “I’m gonna take my lunch now. You good out here by yourself?”
Adam nodded. “According to the data I collected, there’s usually a lull between 1:00pm and 2:00pm on weekdays, so I should be okay.”
Harlan shook his head fondly and walked back to the office while Adam manned the front desk. He was in the middle of organizing invoices when the bell on the door chimed turbulently. Looking up from his computer, Adam saw a man aggressively stomping towards him.
“Hey, can you fix this?”
The customer was very loud, and apparently, very angry.
Adam was about to explode with a list of questions but refrained from doing so with just one of his own. “Okay sir, do you have an appointment?”
“Yeah, I just called here a few minutes ago.”
“When was the appointment for?”
“I don’t fucking know! I said I was coming, and here I fucking am. This computer is busted to shit but I need the files from it. They’re very important. I talked to someone over the phone who said you guys could fix it.”
“Alright, let me just um…” Adam fumbled around the desk awkwardly, trying to find a new customer form. “Could you tell me what the issue is? With your computer?”
“It’s fucking broken,” the man repeated, holding his arms out in the air.
“Do you know if the problem is hardware-related or software-related?”
The man glared at Adam’s name tag with hostility heating his eyes. “No Adam, I don’t fucking know anything about computers. That’s why I’m here, talking to you!”
“Name?”
“Nigel.”
“Last name?”
“Just fucking put Nigel!”
“Okay, okay,” Adam relented, unable to look Nigel in the eyes. “And when do you need this by?”
“As soon as fucking possible, Adam!” Nigel screamed, slamming his fist on the computer. “This should be your number one priority — I’ll fucking pay extra. Name your price.”
“Well, there are customers ahead of you…”
“What did I just say, Adam?”
“You said a lot of things.”
Nigel sighed and took out a wad of cash fastened by a golden money clip, tapping it temptingly on the counter.
“How much would it cost to move this to the top of your list? Huh?”
Just then, Harlan walked out wiping his lips with a napkin; eyes wide.
“Hello there.”
“Hi,” Nigel snapped as realization dawned on him. “You’re the guy I spoke with on the phone. Harlan?”
“Oh. Broken computer, right?”
“Yes! It’s fucking broken and I need it fixed as soon as possible.”
“Alright now, no need for all that. Did Adam sort you out yet?”
“He did, but I was inquiring to see if there was a way to speed up the process. I’m willing to pay any price.”
Harlan raised an eyebrow. “We have a base rate that varies slightly depending on labor and parts, but I’ve never heard of anything like this in all my years.”
“Please. It’s important.”
After a moment of deliberation, Harlan shifted his eyes to Adam. “Think you can do it, Adam? Computer repair is more your forte than mine.”
“I can,” Adam whispered back to Harlan, “But there are other customers ahead of him and—”
“The man said he needs a quick turnaround, so why don’t we try and help him?”
A smile finally broke on Nigel’s face. “I’ll fucking take out a full page ad in the Times for this place if you help me.”
Harlan laughed. “That’s not necessary, but I’ll let Adam set the price since he’ll be the one fixing your computer.”
Nigel preemptively unraveled a handful of bills and placed a rack on the counter. “Is that enough?”
Adam’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t—”
He then raised a finger and added a few more bills to the pile. “How about now?”
“That’s mighty generous of you,” Harlan remarked, a bit shocked himself.
“The files are more important to me than the money.”
“Basic hard drive recovery can take anywhere from two to five days, depending on the issue. I’ll know more after I run my initial diagnostic scan.”
“TWO TO FIVE DAYS?! Adam, I can’t do two to five days. I need it TODAY.”
“I’ll try my best, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
Nigel let out a sigh. “Fine. But please fucking try.”
Something about Adam’s demeanor instilled trust in Nigel and he was willing to take a bet on him.
“Why don’t you leave us your number and we’ll call you as soon as it’s done?” Harlan suggested, handing Nigel a sticky note and a pen.
He nodded and wrote down his information, saluting them both with his fingers as he left the shop in a fury.
“What a character,” Harlan concluded, scratching his head in confusion.
—
Many, many hours later, Adam had successfully extracted the hard drive from Nigel’s ancient laptop. Though he didn’t look at the contents of the files, Adam figured they must be pretty important for Nigel to be so adamant about them.
He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was late.
Adam grumbled to himself for staying past closing hours to help a stranger he didn’t even know. He’d told Harlan to leave without him and that Adam would close up the shop, a decision he now regretted.
Picking up his phone, he texted the number Nigel had left and waited.
Almost instantly, a notification sounded.
‘be right there’
In a matter of minutes, Nigel was back at the shop knocking with his knuckles.
“Adam? Harlan?”
Adam anxiously made his way to the front and unlocked the deadbolt, allowing Nigel entry.
“You fucking did it? You got the files?”
“Yeah, they’re all on a USB drive.”
“A what?”
Adam pulled out the drive from his pocket and flashed it at Nigel.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“You plug it into another computer and the files will come up.”
“That’ll work, I guess.” Nigel then examined Adam’s drained silhouette and smiled. “Look, I appreciate you staying late and getting this done for me. You must allow me to repay you somehow.”
“You already did. With money.”
“I know, but I’d like to repay you another way. How about a drink?”
“I don’t really drink alcohol, if that’s what you mean.”
“Very well, you eat food then don’t you? How about dinner?”
A whine escaped Adam’s throat as he remembered skipping dinner to finish Nigel’s project. And right on cue, his stomach betrayed him and growled at the same time.
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
“Not because of me I hope?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me make it up to you, then. Lock up and let’s go.”
“I don’t even know you. And I don’t like restaurants. They’re busy and noisy most of the time.”
“Fucking Christ, Adam. What DO you like?”
“I like chicken, broccoli, and mac and cheese.”
Nigel clasped his teeth tightly, knowing Adam was being honest. “Okay, do you know a place that offers those things?”
“My apartment, but I’m too tired to cook.”
“Surely we can find a bar that has chicken on the menu.”
Nigel sat down and impatiently waited for Adam to close up shop.
With the added pressure of someone waiting on him, Adam quickly tallied up the daily totals, turned off the lights, and grabbed Nigel’s laptop to give back to him. The older man grinned as he received the computer, also taking Adam’s messenger bag off his shoulders.
He stared at Nigel in confusion.
“You got a lot going on, I’ll carry your bag for you.”
“I don’t need you to do that for me.”
“I said I’ll carry your bag for you.”
Adam nodded, unnerved by Nigel’s insistence, and reached for his keys.
—
“How is your food?”
“It’s good,” Adam said between hurried bites.
Nigel smirked, his heart swelling at the sight of Adam enjoying his food. “Told you we’d find your chicken.”
Adam laughed and dug into the mac and cheese. “This might mess up my eating schedule though. I usually always eat at eight o’clock.”
“I’ve dated women less picky than you.”
Adam was confused by the statement. “It’s uh, sometimes it's hard for me to… I’m on the spectrum. The autism spectrum.”
“The what?”
“That’s um…” Adam averted his eyes to the floor as he tried to articulate his thoughts. “You know that feeling you get when you step outside on a sunny day? How the sun hits your eyes and it hurts, but you like the warmth on your skin so you keep walking? That’s what it’s like to be on the spectrum, except that feeling persists all the time.”
Nigel was heartened by Adam’s peculiar analogy. “I think I get it.”
“My brain processes things differently so I may not always understand what you’re saying. I’d prefer if you were direct with me.”
“You don’t have to worry about that with me, darling.”
Adam smiled. “Darling. That’s an affectionate term.”
“It sure is, darling.” Nigel returned the smile. “So Harlan, is he your…”
“Family and business partner. Harlan was in the service with my father and helped me adjust after he passed. During that time, I got fired from my job and Harlan decided he didn’t want to work for a ‘pea-brained jackass’ anymore, so we opened up an electronics repair shop together. I handle most of the computer repairs, but Harlan can fix anything mechanical.”
Nigel was relieved. “I found you guys online. You were the first thing that came up when I searched for computer repair shops.”
“Oh good! That means my SEO work was successful.”
“Your what?”
“SEO. It’s the process of maximizing the number of visitors to a website by ensuring the site appears at the top of a search engine.”
“You’re very smart, Adam.”
“I am?”
“Mm-hmm. And I like smart people.”
Adam lifted his head and beamed. “Do you like space? Because I have books and telescopes, star charts. You could borrow some stuff. And we could go out, look at the sky.”
“Maybe, sometime. Sure.”
“Okay.” He pinched the ends of his fingers excitedly and finished his dinner, Nigel watching from the other side of the table with heart eyes.
—
The next day Nigel dropped by the shop again.
“Back so soon?” Harlan asked with a sense of urgency in his tone. “Did that hard drive recovery not work out?”
“Quite the opposite. In fact, Adam did such an outstanding job that I was inspired to bring you both lunch. Chicken, broccoli, and mac and cheese.”
“Oh Lord.” Harlan then called out, “Adam, you have a special delivery!”
He shyly peeked his head out from the office and followed the trail of Harlan’s voice.
“But I don’t have anything coming today…” Adam’s answer was cut short when he saw the familiar man standing in the front lobby. “Nigel?”
“Hello gorgeous. I got you both lunch. Your favorite.”
“And how do you know that?” Harlan questioned, his eyebrows furrowing like a detective leading an investigation.
“Because that’s what we had for dinner last night when Adam told me it’s what he prefers.”
“Dinner? Last night?” Harlan turned towards Adam. “Is what this man saying true, Adam?”
“He’s telling the truth, Harlan. Nigel made me miss dinner, so he picked up some food for me on the way home last night.”
“I see.”
“You need not worry Harlan — I’m a gentleman at heart. We only had dinner, and I came by to ask Adam out on a space date.”
“Now what the hell is a space date?” Harlan rasped between laughs.
Nigel glared at Adam, hoping he would get the hint and help him out, but he did not get the memo.
“Adam mentioned something about telescopes and star charts the other day.”
“Oh, you mean when I asked if you wanted to go stargazing with me?”
“Yeah, that’s it. See Harlan? I’m not making this shit up.”
“I did ask Nigel if he wanted to look at the sky with me.”
“I’m keeping my eyes on you, Nigel. But if Adam likes you, then I like you too. For now,” Harlan replied, smiling cordially.
“You’ll learn that I’m not all bad.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
—
“Where is it?”
Nigel took one last drag of his cigarette before he flicked it on the ground and stepped on it.
“I’ve no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t make this difficult. најебао си.*” [*You fucked up]
He held his breath and carefully listened to the counts of footsteps behind him. There were two, maybe three bodies. With no way to beat them fairly since he was vastly outnumbered, Nigel did the only thing he could — he bolted.
Having been an athlete back in Romania, Nigel was more agile than the other men, but he knew his stamina wouldn’t last forever. From his peripheral vision, he tried to pinpoint an escape route or potential weapon but saw only concrete for miles.
Nigel’s feet propelled him forward as he serpentined through an alleyway and jumped a fence, landing him in an unsuspecting stranger’s backyard. To his luck, a patio chair broke his fall and saved him from paralyzation. Powered by pure adrenaline, Nigel smashed the chair to pieces and ripped off a leg. He then tossed it over the fence and climbed up after it, running back into the streets.
Eventually Nigel lost his stride, his breath growing more and more shallow with every step. And though it was heavily delayed, he could hear the footsteps growing closer. Ducking behind some bushes for cover, Nigel waited until they were in eyeshot before ambushing them like a panther. He swiftly landed a low calf kick on one of the men, knocking him headfirst into the pavement.
The other two retaliated violently, taking turns using Nigel’s body as a punching bag. Vision blurred and consciousness fading; Nigel knew he was in danger. Since his only weapon had been kicked far out of reach, Nigel clenched his muscles and head-butted the man restraining him as hard as he could.
“Fuck!” the man cursed, backing away and spitting out a few bloody, dislodged teeth.
For his transgression, Nigel was immediately decked by the other man who broke his nose. He collapsed to the ground, groaning in agony as he crawled towards the wooden stake with every last inch of his strength. But before he could grab it, one of the henchmen crushed Nigel’s fingers with his steel-toed boot, the sound of bones cracking cutting the air.
“Where is the FUCKING computer?”
Nigel’s body was so still the man kicked him to make sure he was still alive. He stifled a scream and laughed maniacally instead, seeing only red. Nigel then bellowed, “у пички твоје мајке,*” [*In your mother’s cunt] before clamping his canines down and biting a chunk out of the man’s leg.
It earned him a brutal kick to the face, but Nigel utilized the backwards momentum to hook the chair leg and use his remaining energy to stab him. The man wailed as wood pierced through flesh; Nigel seizing the opportunity to launch an attack on the other target. He wrestled him to the ground and slammed his head against the curb until he stopped moving.
Nigel then wiped his bloody lips and snarled, focusing his attention on the final person left. By the time panic settled on the man’s face, Nigel had already snapped his neck. Now all three bodies were lying weightless on the ground.
Shakily Nigel rose to his feet as he limped away in silence; colored in crimson with his head buried in his hands.
—
Adam’s legs were trembling as he kept peeking at the clock by the door.
Nigel had promised to check out the stars with him, but he was over an hour late.
No calls, no texts, no response. Only radio silence.
Since they were practically strangers, Adam supposed he didn’t know anything about Nigel.
Perhaps something had just come up, or maybe Nigel just wasn’t the type of person who honored commitments.
Drip drip drip.
Adam made himself a cup of coffee to wait for Nigel just a stretch longer, though the demons of self doubt were already starting to ensnare him. He worried that Nigel had written him off as “hard to love” like the others.
He angrily threw his cup into the sink, turning it into dust. In an unprecedented move, Adam pulled out another mug and filled it with a mixture of coffee and his late father’s whiskey.
He sipped slowly, thinking about Nigel and his expressive face.
How every time he was mad, his head would twitch incrementally but his eyes wouldn’t budge. Whereas when he was pretending to be mad, he would tilt his head all the way and show his teeth. People were impossible to read, but Nigel wasn’t. At least not for Adam.
He was probably the first person Adam could kind of understand, and also the first person who could kind of understand him back. Adam took a big swig of his drink and cringed at the bitter taste.
After setting the mug on his nightstand, Adam hopped into bed and grabbed his phone, the alcohol giving him the liquid courage he needed.
—
Nigel felt his pocket buzz and swallowed blood when he saw who the message was from.
‘I don’t kmow why youre mad at me’
He then opened the second text, which was hard to do with his swollen fingers.
‘But I wish youd talkto me’
—
A week had passed.
And for the first time in his life, Nigel felt shame.
He hated missing their date and ghosting Adam, on top of all the mental and physical trauma he was suffering from.
But he couldn’t show his face after all that had happened between them.
Adam could never know that Nigel was a monster, and he could never find out what he did to those three men and many others before them.
—
Nigel sat across the street from the repair shop and watched customers go in and out all day, with Adam or Harlan occasionally making an appearance.
He also noticed Adam often looked lost, like he was searching for something. Or someone. In those moments, Nigel wanted to cross the street and beg for forgiveness. Scream that he was an idiot and would never do it again, but it didn’t feel right, or true, so he never did.
The younger man had trimmed his hair for the summer and he looked like an angel. Adam was perfect. Nigel was the problem.
“I’m sorry…”
Adam slowly turned his head, just barely missing Nigel who was already gone.
—
Nigel waited a couple of months for his face to heal before trying to talk to Adam. And though he’d ruminated on the best way to apologize, he never found his answer.
Sucking in a breath, Nigel kneeled down and left something on his doorstep.
A few moments later, a confused Adam opened his door to see a handwritten note on the ground.
‘Meet me on the roof
- Nigel’
“Hello darling.”
Nigel was waiting for him with a picnic basket in tow.
Adam smiled briefly before frowning again, his heart irresolute at the gesture.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to have a picnic with you.”
“You’re a few months too late for that.”
“I know.”
As Nigel turned to face him, Adam could see bruises on his skin and bald patches in his hair.
“Nigel, what happened to your face?”
The older man patted the seat next to him, which Adam reluctantly took.
“Would you believe me if I said I fell down the stairs?”
“If that’s what really happened, then yes.”
“Then I fell down the stairs.”
“Did you though?”
Instead of answering, Nigel handed him a warm takeout container.
“I’ve eaten dinner already,” Adam contested, changing his tune when he saw Nigel’s pitiful expression. “But I guess I could have a snack, depending on what it is.”
“I did fall down the stairs. The stairs just happened to have fists, arms, and legs. Do you remember that thing you told me, Adam? About stepping out into the sun? Well, maybe I am the sun… And one day I’ll blow up and destroy everything. But until then, I’m here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I like you, Adam. I don’t want to like you, because I’m a bad man, but I do.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble, Nigel?”
“My entire existence is trouble. But I still feel things, you know? I have no one else.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. Let’s just look at the stars together.”
Nigel laid on his back and held out his hand for Adam, who after much inner turmoil, rested his palm inside Nigel’s.
The contrast was stark; Adam’s soft fingers laced with Nigel’s calloused ones. But it was nice. Comforting even.
They sat silently for the rest of the evening, side by side, just observing the sky and each other.
—
Many thanks to the wonderful itsbeeagain for providing me with the proper Serbian sayings! 💖
Translations:
*најебао си = You fucked up (Serbian)
*у пички твоје мајке = In your mother’s cunt (Serbian)