Imagine if Bing got a nasty virus but keeps it a secret from everybody, because he already feels inferior. So he acts like everything is okay while his software is slowly being destroyed. - Not Gabe
Bing knows that if he doesn’t tell anyone about the virus wrecking havoc on his system, he’s going to die. He feels overheated, like his servos are melting inside him and the simple act of keeping up a coherent conversation takes up more energy than it should. Bop keeps eyeing him with worry, obviously wanting to say something but Bing puts twice as much effort into being normal, can’t have Bop fretting and telling Dr. Iplier on him.
He keeps seeing Google’s smug smirk, the way his eyes gleam as they pick apart his flaws. Bing can’t let him know about yet another weakness, can’t stand to be told how worthless he is, how great it is that he’s being torn apart from the inside.
So he smiles and he laughs and he sings along to Bop’s music. He skateboards badly (worse than ever, he doesn’t have the same coordination as before, deteriorated as his systems are). And one day he falls and his limbs won’t pull him back up, everything hurts and he can’t do anything. Bop is panicking, hands scrambling to help him up, voice murmuring in his ear. Bing can’t understand a damn thing.
Dr. Iplier tells him what he already knows, he’s dying. It’s Bop’s devastated face that makes it hurt all the more.