Jonathan awoke once again, immediately thinking back to what happened, and wondered what fresh horrors he would awaken to this time.

  "Hey. I know you're awake, but I need you to sit still for a minute. We gotta talk."

  Before he processed the voice, he went to open his eyes to see what fresh hell he was in, and what if anything had been taken away.

  He could not open his eyes.

  He went to move his legs. His arms. Anything. He tried to respond to the voice. He tried screaming.

  He could not.

  "Sorry guy, I've had to shut you down for a bit. Hear me out and I'll unlock your system soon. I'm begging ya to stop for a second — I promise you'll want to hear this."

  The voice was masculine, though it cracked a couple of times. It felt thin and clearly exhausted. It had an accent weirdly approaching one from New York, but not quite what he'd call a "tuff guy."

  "This is probably gonna be a shock, but I'm your new buddy. Or maybe roommate would be more appropriate. I had to hitch a ride after your friend totaled my last one, if you know what I mean. Do you remember that? Say, how long ago was that again?"

  Jonathan immediately thought to himself that it was roughly 13.2 days, or 10.56 TUs.

  "Perfect. Alright listen… no, I'm not going to. Alright. Listen. STOP. Do you have some kind of disorder or something? Can you PLEASE try to focus on one question at a time?"

  Jonathan slowed down. Or imagined himself slowing down.

  How the hell does this even work? How does anybody focus on just one thing? He immediately started thinking about pink elephants despite knowing he shouldn't.

  "Look, you're doing it again. I'm just really tired right now, so I can't handle all this noise at once. Maybe try giving me a numbered list or something, I don't know."

  The voice sounded exasperated. Jonathan composed a numbered list of questions in his mind.

  "Perfect. I'll try to answer a few questions at once. First — you're gonna think it's a good thing I'm here. I'm not here to eat your brain, or pilot you like a meat suit, or anything like that."

  "Yeah, sure. Like symbiosis. I'm a being colloquially known as a Passenger. You can call me Buddy."

  "Look, if it sounds stupid, then it's your fault. My whole deal is to enhance the capabilities of the person I'm riding with. That includes LOTS of stuff — processing, reaction time, strength, healing, and a bunch of other stuff. What's important right now is translation. We're not speaking the same language… or any language at all, in this case. I work together with your brain to fill in the blanks when it comes to names and stuff."

  "Yes, it's complicated as shit, and it's going to take a lot of getting used to for both of us. I have to learn so many new phrases."

  "Anyway, on to the important thing. I'm not sure how much your new friend told you about what happens next. My recall is a little vague on details before I moved in. I know you signed a… well, a real doozy of a contract."

  Jonathan remembered the contract and started involuntarily hyperventilating.

  "…Calm down. Please calm down. I will break one of your fingers so help me…"

  Jonathan could feel himself begin to take deep, slow breaths. This raised even more questions, but he managed to maintain some focus.

  "Great, thank you. The fact is that I can help. But it's in both of our best interest that nobody knows I'm here — because I'm not what you'd call 'official merchandise.' None of your new coworkers, or that new Passenger they're about to inject you with, can know."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Jonathan's mind focused on the idea of yet another creature being injected into his body, and once again flew into a minor panic attack.

  "STOP. It's going to be fine. I can help turn down your pain receptors, and I'm pretty sure I can take him — but I can't guarantee shit if I have to fight your body the whole time I do it."

  Jonathan had a weird vision of octopuses... octopi?... octopedes? punching each other with boxing gloves.

  "It's not exactly like that. Well, it's a little like that. Chances are this guy will be thoroughly lobotomized and will only give you basic skills pertaining to your new role. Trust me, you'll want me in control. If you can just relax and let me handle this, things will go much better for everyone involved. If it goes bad, let's just say extraction is much, much worse."

  Jonathan imagined how much worse it could get.

  "Yeah, like that… but more raking and flaying. Anyway, I overheard that he'll be here in a few minutes. All you gotta do is remain calm."

  A few minutes later, the alien known as… Craig, I guess? showed up to the room.

  It was probably a good thing that Jonathan couldn't see the gigantic combination hypodermic needle/squirt gun.

  "Alright — they're going to apply a sedative or anesthetic first. It's time for you to take over the breathing part. I'm going to be busy."

  Jonathan could feel himself being gently rolled onto his stomach. He felt a mist all the way up and down his back, which made it tingle in a very odd way. A little ticklish, but Jonathan kept himself in control knowing what was at stake.

  Jonathan could feel the next part.

  Luckily only the tactile sense of something gooey being pushed through his skin and into the base of his spine — and not the pain that would typically be associated with such a thing. Jonathan miraculously kept his breathing steady.

  He felt the giant needle leave, and the gooey deposit jerk into action as it slowly allowed itself to be carried into the bloodstream. A main central mass could still be felt slowly pulling itself up his spine until it settled. All was calm for some time.

  Jonathan eventually drifted into real sleep.

  "Hey-hey, I'm your new pal! I've got to say it is so lovely meeting you!"

  This new voice was a little goofy. Not "Goofy" goofy, just… goofy. It had a higher pitch than the other one, a very upbeat attitude, with just a tinge of a southern drawl.

  Jonathan could already tell that this one's name had been solidified as "Pal", which immediately made him think of Abbott and Costello. Or South Park.

  "I'm not sure I understand your joke, friend, but I will endeavor to learn your sense of humor as we go along!" - this one too, was apparently reading his thoughts.

  "I can just tell we're going to be the BEST of friends! You see, I'm what's known as a-WHAT THE FUCK?!""

  The subcutaneous equivalent of a trapdoor spider grabbed hold of its prey, sucking it into its own mass.

  The new voice screamed for a while. A few whiles, actually. Jonathan found it to be quite unsettling.

  There were no voices for quite some time, leading Jonathan to wonder what to do. Not coming up with any good ideas, he just sat there breathing for a while.

  23.35 minutes — or 13 mTUs — passed. Just breathing.

  "Hey-hey, I'm your new pal! I've got to say it is so lovely meeting you!"

  It was now Jonathan's turn to say it.

  "What the fuck?"

  "Easy friend — your vitals indicate you've just undergone somewhere between one and five major traumatic events! Please remain calm and focus on not obtaining 'PTSD'. While you're processing your trauma, please allow me to introduce myself! You see, I'm what's known as a…"

  The voice of Pal got lower and lower, but never quite mute.

  The voice of Buddy returned. "Holy shit, it worked. Great job, bud. He's still in there but he has to run everything through me, so we should be in the clear."

  Jonathan wondered what the hell was going on.

  "Straight up killing the new guy wasn't possible, so I had to set us up a little split-tunnel kind of deal. This way we should both be able to help you out. Pretty awesome if I do say so myself. The good news is he's not all that bright, so he'll probably just think the gaps in conversation are because you're a little slow. I'm feeding him enough info to hopefully stop him from being too suspicious."

  After some consideration, and going back and forth with both of his new "friends", Jonathan figured out exactly what that meant.

  Important thoughts went one way. His more distracted — and frankly idiotic — thoughts went another.

  "Look, it's the best solution I could come up with. I'll try to work on something a little more elegant, but for now you should be able to adjust your focus on either of us a little more easily. The good news is that all the unconscious functionality is just flat out better. It's only when abstract thought comes into play that things are going to work like this — so make sure your mind doesn't wander at an important time, or you're going to be stuck with the other guy for a while."

  "Anyway, I will literally die if I don't get some rest, so I'm going to switch you completely over to the new guy for a while. Good luck."

  Jonathan was a professional when it came to having a distracted mind at an inopportune time.

  Like right now, for example.

  "Hey there! I noticed you're having some complex feelings about self-identity, personal agency, and your place in the vast, uncaring universe! Would you like me to help with that?"

  "No thanks, Pal. I'm just going to rest for a while."

  He was exhausted, despite really only focusing on breathing.

  After 53 minutes… wait.

  "Pal, can you please set the automatic timekeeping to just happen in the background for now? I don't need to know time to such a specific degree at this point."

  After about an hour, it was finally time to meet the crew.