Hello! This first chapter merely recounts the first choices in Black Mirror Bandersnatch (with a few changes and such of my own) but is not necessary to understand the ending if you've watched the episode (and the writing isn't specitacular because I didn't plan to share it with anyone when I wrote it). I still suggest reading it, but if you get bored skip to chapter 2 and give it a chance before leaving the fic. It starts when Stefan asks for a sign. Enjoy!

I don't own Black Mirror; Bandersnatch episode or otherwise. (also, this is my first time posting any fanfiction, is this all i need to do in order to not get arrested/fined/burnt at the stake?)

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Stefan glanced at the two boxes of cereal. He honestly didn't care which one he ate for breakfast; in fact, he wasn't even that hungry. He was on the verge of just pointing and seeing which box it happened to land on; But something in the back of his mind felt that this decision was important - And then, once he noticed it, that part of him became overpowering. What was he thinking? This decision very well may decide his entire future! Which one? Sugar puffs or frosties? But he couldn't decide. He stared blankly at the two boxes for a good 10 seconds trying to make a decision. Then suddenly, as if a chunk of code had just been dropped into place, the decision was made up for him; frosties. Definitely frosties. There was no other choice but frosties. Frosties were all consuming - or to be consumed, rather, at the very least. He pointed to the box. Then the gripping thought left him as suddenly as it had come, and Stefan felt as though something inside him had been released. That was odd, he thought vaguely, frowning into his bowl as his dad handed him the cereal box. But he chalked it up to early morning grogginess and didn't bother to question it. It was his personal philosophy never to question much of anything before 9 in the morning.

'9 am? Was that the time already?' He asked himself. Spooning excessive quantities of frosties into his face, he quickly got up and ready for the big meeting. The time was coming to show off his bandersnatch game, and he was determined to leave his mark during his demo play through with the gaming company. It was a new company - Tuckersoft - and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Hopefully, if they took the bait, he could get a bit of help finishing the game up. It didn't have far to go now either; just more pathways to code and sprites and such to sort out. For the first time in a while, he was actually in a somewhat pleasant mood as he pondered his prospects.

The bus ride to Tuckersoft was rather uneventful - he listened to music for most of the trip. He had difficulty choosing a tape to listen to, but in the end settled on one he'd listened to a thousand times already. Maybe he just needed to get some new music to spice up his choices a bit. He made a mental note to stop by the record shop downtown to pick up something new.

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"So, what do you say?" Asked the owner of Tuckersoft (Mr. Thakur, if he recalled). Stefan looked at him with excitement; the demo had gone even better than expected, and now they were willing to help him finish it. Yes, yes! Of course he would accept this deal, it was his chance to finally show off his skills to the world.

"No." He heard himself say.

He blinked. What.

He started to ramble some kind of excuse. What? What was he even saying? "It's just... letting other people in and having to work on a team, it would - would make it too ... stressy." He finished in some sort of halfhearted conclusion.

"Too... stressy?" Questioned Thakur, echoing Stefan's own bewildered questions to himself.

"Yes." He said. No! He thought.

Stefan, the butt of all the Netflix users choices, had made the first choice that truly went against his will; and Colin, one of the head game masters of the fledgling company and somewhat of an inspiration to Stefan himself, seemed to notice. Colin took Stefan's side. Or, the side he had expressed anyway. Something about the way he said it though... it seemed like he knew something else he wasn't saying. All In all, the whole thing was overly weird, and Stefan left the Tuckersoft building in a bit of a daze still trying to catch up with what happened. They would still run the game, but they had let him finish the project all on his own... just like he'd asked. But that hadn't been him, had it? That notion was alarming. Was it he who had asked for that? But he hadn't meant to! He wanted help; but now he would have to do it all on his own. Why hadn't he been able to just say 'yes'?

Maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, it would be a good idea to talk to her - 'Her' being his therapist; The whole thing was odd, and she was insistent on being kept up to date with anything odd. And to be honest with himself (another personal philosophy of his), he wasn't at all comfortable with not being sure what had come over him in the Tuckersoft building.

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No, he did not want to talk about his stupid tragic backstory again! He thought to himself. His gut wrenched inside him as he recognized the same irresistible track of thought that consumed all else in its quest to make itself manifest. But this time, unlike whatever happened with Thakur and his offer, he agreed with it. Weird that it put it that way, but his past was behind him; and reopening an old wound was not going to help him with his current issue. His therapist continued to press though, and he was on the brink of just letting her win and going back to talking about it anyway.

No.

Again, the decision was overpowering, and he stood firm as a pillar on it. But something felt seriously wrong now, as though he's now been set in a track that shouldn't even exist. He shook himself mentally. That was ridiculous; there were no 'tracks'. What was he talking about? But the feeling remained, and it was rather unbearable. He wished now he could go back and 'do it right'. He wanted to talk about his past now, he knew that would set him on the right 'track' again.

But he couldn't. Not anymore. Why not?

"Stefan?" Asked his therapist.

"It's still doing it! I'm still not choosing-"

"Stefan, I know it's hard around this time of year for you, what with the anniversary coming up -"

"No, this has nothing to do with -"

"You were only five, Stefan. It wasn't your fault."

Was she talking about his mother? He was NOT talking about that. He couldn't, the thought had said no. Suddenly he stood up and left, with his therapist calling his name behind him. But that was not going to stop the persistent driving force in his head telling him what to do, and Stefan asked himself with ever escalating panic - what would?

What is happening to me? He asked himself. He lifted up two records in the record store. One was on the list Colin had given him earlier to help him focus on his work. He thought it was probably going to take a bit more than that in light of recent events; He bought the other record that he had no reason to buy instead - Without consenting to it.

At home Stefan put his new record on and worked on Bandersnatch. What else could he do? It had to be done by the deadline. At some point he was going to have to figure out what was going on but right now - he had work to do. A lot of it considering he was not getting any help. And he didn't want to admit anything was out of the ordinary just yet - He considered himself to be a somewhat reasonable man, and there was nothing reasonable about what had happened that day; so he chose to ignore it. And that's what he did, and his game was a perfect distraction. He worked on it day and night nearly nonstop. And his dad, inevitably, noticed.

Stefan shouted at him. He didn't mean to, he wanted to just give up - destroy the thing in front of him that had been consuming him for the last few months. The game didn't work, he didn't have time to fix it, it was ruining his life as his dad pointed out, and he was just so tired. But something in him (which he was too tired to recognize as anything but his own will) couldn't just pour tea all over the thing that he had worked so hard on, and his nerves were on end enough that shouting seemed a very natural response to whatever his life had become.

"In the car, now. We're getting something to eat." His dad said. It wasn't a request.

The car ride was tense to say the least. Stefan slept for some of the way but his dad inevitably brought up the elephant of the situation.

"Stefan, I'm worried about you! You don't eat, you don't get enough sleep, that game all you can think about!" They pulled up in front of the psychiatric clinic - not a burger joint.

"I'm fine dad -"

"You're not fine."

"Just a few more days and Bandersnatch will be done! The deadline is this Friday, if I can just finish -"

"Stefan, this isn't healthy! Go in, talk with the psychiatrist - last time you just walked out on her. She can help you! We just want to help."

Stefan was about to argue when he saw Colin, the game master, walk down the block. Their gaze met for a split second, then he turned and continued on his way. He felt the urge to follow him - and it wasn't taking no for an answer. Feeling his heart sink, Stefan whispered to his dad "you can't help me. I'm sorry." Then he turned and raced after Colin ignoring his Dad's calls.

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"It let's you see the bigger picture." Colin told him.

Stefan was not happy he had followed him. Colin was bringing up the very thing he'd been avoiding since he first noticed it back in Tuckersoft - that irrepressible force making him 'do things'. He had successfully ignored its plausibility for the last few months he'd been working on Bandersnatch, but Colin seemed adamant that nothing was in his control, that time was a construct, and now that the whole thing could be explained by taking drugs. By sane standards, it was stupid. By Stefan's new standards fueled by his latest violated choice after several months of freedom, it sounded like it just might be the tipping point if what Colin said was true. And he didn't want it to be.

No. He thought. His hand reached for the little square and, to his horror, popped it in his mouth as Colin had instructed. And it didn't take long after that. The man was dead. Colin had jumped.

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"You don't understand, I'm not in control!" He yelled at his therapist.

"The last time you said this we tried to talk about your mother and you left. Why don't we explore that now? Sometimes looking back and settling our past can give us the key to our future." The shrink said rambling her spiel while turning to look out the window. Stefan was fighting the urge (command?) to bite his fingernails which was quickly turning into a clash of wills over whether he would bite the whole digit off or not. When she turned back to him Stefan had clasped his hands around his chest to keep them away from his face and was looking at her desperately. She took this as a plea to continue.

"Your mother wouldn't want you to keep living like this, Stefan." She said, " She wouldn't want you to keep blaming people's who don't deserve it. Why don't you tell me what happened? I know we've gone over it before, but let's hear it again."

"You already know! Ok?" He snapped, still pinning his arms to his sides. "The stupid bunny was missing, so I made her late enough to miss the train that didn't crash."

"And the bunny was missing because?"

"Because dad hid it from me."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?! It's over, and time is just a construct so maybe it never even happened!" He said. He was so confused at this point he had no idea what to believe. Was Colin's jumping a nightmare? Was it real? Was time a construct and what did that even mean? He had no idea. The psychiatrist was a bit taken aback, but continued anyway.

"Last time you said you hated your dad for hiding it." She pointed out.

Thinking about it, Stefan realized how stupid it all was. Maybe he'd matured, maybe he just had other worries, but he knew that he didn't hate his dad. He had, as a teen, but His dad was no more guilty than he was. His mother had died over a stupid rabbit and there was nothing they could do about it now, and neither of them could have known what their actions would lead to. Maybe his dad was wrong for not letting his son have the rabbit, but it wasn't out of malice for anyone - just an intention for his son to grow up maturely, even if that wasn't the best way to go about it. It was just a dadly thing to do. And he was five, He didn't know what the world was like.

And clearly he still didn't. For all he knew his dad had the same problem he did, and as if to prove his point a command (who was he kidding?) to pull on his earlobe of all things made itself known and he had to wrestle his hand back to its assigned place around his chest.

"I don't hate my dad. Neither of us could have known and nothing we did was really out of the ordinary. I just want to put it behind me and move on." He hissed out.

"That's a lot of improvement Stefan." She said, apparently not noticing his struggles with the rouge hand. "I'm proud of you. Now how does that reflect on how you feel about how well you control your life?"

He looked at her. He wanted to tell her all about his problem. Instead he said "great." He wasn't sure it was himself or the force (he cringed) that said it as he got up and left her office.

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It was almost delivery day for Bandersnatch. Stefan popped his single prescription pill - his psychiatrist felt that one was enough after his supposed improvement during his last visit - and continued working. He tried not to think too hard about the complexities of his own free will (or lack thereof) until after the game was completed. He could go insane, he told himself, after Bandersnatch was done. Colin had said something about how a bit of madness was needed to make a perfect game, and Stefan maniacally chuckled at that. Oh he had madness alright; he just hoped it wasn't enough to push him over the edge completely. At least Not yet.

The day of delivery came, and Stefan returned to Tuckersoft. Colin was missing (a foreboding implication he chose to ignore), so he played the game for Thakur instead.

"This is great Stefan, I'm glad we put extra into the advertising!" The owner of Tuckersoft said, watching the gameplay intently. Stefan tried not to let his pride at the statement show. It felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders - Bandersnatch was a masterpiece, and it was his own work. Better yet, it was finished. Or so he thought, until the screen froze up.

"I thought you worked out all the bugs?!" Thakur protested.

"I thought I had!" He answered.

He managed to convince Thakur to give him the weekend to fix it. The weight of Bandersnatch was crushing him yet again.

Before he left the building one of the employees caught him and gave him a tape addressed to him from Colin. He didn't look forward to watching it. Knowing the guy, it couldn't be helpful for his 'I'm not questioning reality till after this project is finished' mentality. But, on the off chance it had any helpful info about fixing computer bugs from one famous legend of a programmer to an aspiring amateur, he chucked it into the VCR and watched a few minutes of it; And really, that's all it took. The entire thing was on freedom of the will, and that really wasn't what he wanted to think about right now. He switched it off and worked on Bandersnatch instead - to no avail. He didn't know what was wrong with this patch of the game. He'd added it and couldn't take it out now, but something kept causing it to glitch up every time. Hours and hours he worked on it with no headway.

Stefan cried out in frustration and lifted his hand to crush the computer only for it to come down forcibly onto his desk. He looked at it in surprise. He lifted his hand again and moved it toward the monitor, only for it to spasm and again crash into the desk, causing pain to shoot up his arm. Frantically, he tried again and his hand smacked into the desk over and over again; each time causing Stefan to grow more and more uneasy and his hand to hurt. Taking a shaky breath he tried to calm his thoughts. He reached for his tea and made a conscious effort to dump it on his keyboard. He didn't think of ruining Bandersnatch; That didn't matter now. What mattered, was that when he tried to pour tea on his keyboard - he couldn't stop himself from lifting it up and instead pouring it down his throat. He choked, and coughed till the tea made its way out of his lungs, putting the cup down on the desk beside him, which then fell and smashed on the floor. He swallowed and staggered to his feet, wiping the lukewarm tea from his face and staring at his hands. He looked around. His heart was staring to race and his breath quickened. What is doing this to me?! He questioned desperately.

"Give me a sign" he whispered shakily. His voice rose in volume, and he shouted "Just GIVE ME A SIGN!"

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Just an (old, as of now) author's note here, I am writing the second part of this as soon as i get this posted (I'm still figuring the site out and am doing it all from my phone - Hence no indented paragraphs cause sorry, I can't figure it out) so, keep an eye out and I'll update it as soon as I've written it out. My plan is for two chapters, and this was the boring one because so far everything has followed the episode fairly closely. the next one will be more exciting i think.

Vale!

- CrypticScribbles (because the cool usernames were taken)

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