Chapter Text
Chris couldn’t begin to recall what had just happened. Every little detail. Every piece of memory that had been stuck stubbornly in his mind was washed away eagerly, just as the morning spring had once done with the gunk stuck in its rocks where Chris used to live. It was as if he could still hear it, but even that soon faded away, too.
Not much was left, and now all he had were subtle emotions and an overly aching feeling all along his occiput. Perhaps he was bleeding out, if possible, due to the feeling of dampness and dripping that existed all along his body. It took many attempts at feeling along the wettest spots (usually his hair), and staring at the thin substance to realize it was water. This seemed to strike something within him, a small flicker of a realization, soon followed by another wave of aching and pain. Chris shrieked via the familiar yet somehow new feeling, and being alone in what looked to be nothingness just made things oh so much worse.
He hated being alone.
Wait, did he?
Another wave of pain came, as if someone or something struck him against the back of the head each time he came to recall even one simple memory or fact about himself. What could he remember? Well, thinking something such as that allowed a softness to cover this headache of his like a thin blanket, the aching dull now. It was because of something he had pieced together in his scattered mind:
Andrew.
This name brought tremendous warmth— it flowed through him, and that feeling resonated with a spring close to his home where he used to live. Thinking about this newfound information gave him instant deja vu, though? Not a clue as to why. The recollection of this spring fades once again, the memory simply not strong enough to stick, and everything Chris had regained access to inside his own mind fell apart the second he forgot about that spring.
A cycle of suffering, it seems. Water. That was the next thing that came to mind, because what felt like he was drenched in had to be water. Chris… remembers having a very strange relationship with water. When warm, or at least room temperature, water was something fun and relaxing and sweet and nice. When cold, all Chris felt was an indescribable swirl of emotions. All was negative, another mystery, but at the same time, all Chris could comment on the fact was that it was understandable. He didn’t know why it was reasonably something to be upset about, he just knew it to be that way.
The urge to pick and pry at this information like a newly formed scab was something vast within Chris, but as he found out before, it only served as a reason for more pain. After some time of this deja vu-like cycle, Chris stood up where he was. He couldn’t quite recall what had happened; just a few words.
“GOODNIGHT, CHRIS.”
Except.. Right now, it seemed much sweeter than it had when whoever had said it actually did. It was somber, but full of meaning now, and that made things all the more confusing within himself.
For Chris, it seemed like all issues had stretched out drastically— they twisted, turned, and all things stung in the most wearisome of ways. Looking around himself, all seemed bright and full of color, the opposite of him and his odd-looking form. When Chris had the confidence to, he took time to stare at his arms and legs, which seemed to be pitch black like the night sky. He wondered if he could see stars within himself when looking hard enough, but the thought alone wasn’t enough to make this thought materialize before him. Something inside him said that maybe he really could accomplish his thoughts and materialize them within this world, but at the same time, he had no idea how or why that would be possible.
Either way, at least fifteen minutes had passed, and Chris hadn’t even looked around because of how much time it was taking him to adjust to this state of being. Something else inside him rang, and the whole area began to shake slightly, only to stop when Chris heard a voice.
“Confused, are you?”
With a flinch, Chris looked up. Because there was no mouth, Chris would assume for the time being that this voice he was hearing was only actually hearable because it was inside his mind. He stared a long while, but those were the only words he heard that weren’t his. The rest of this conversation was portrayed via non-verbal communications, and it was all this talk of persuasion that Chris didn’t particularly enjoy. The idea of anger and revenge against whoever had hurt Chris and left him alone like this, as if he were the one who caused his death.
It just wasn’t true.
Then it tried to explain just how Chris could get his revenge on whoever he wanted, that he could gain all the power of this realm and the secrets within it, too, just as the Smile did. The reason Chris remembered the Smile was because of the emotions thrust upon him during his conversation with whatever had brought him here, and so many horrid memories bled into Chris’s sweet bliss of ignorance and lack of memory. At first, he really did want to just take all the power— he wanted to finally stand up for himself instead of hiding everything as he always had. It was cowardice. Though, at the same time, revenge and rage weren’t the right way to go about it. Something kept dragging him away every time he thought he was ready to just agree with whatever was telling him all these things, something familiar.
It was warm, soothing, and he could remember so much laughter— a beautiful feeling. A human feeling, something that just would not and could not fade. He just didn’t recall the name for this. But.. he could recall the name that activated such emotion within his being, and it changed everything. The moment Chris thought of this name, time seemed to slow. All he’d forgotten came back, like a light sprinkle of rain steadying into harsh floods, and it was something he could no longer stop.
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Soon, he realized it was his own tears.
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“Andrew.”
———
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong… if only Andrew had realized this sooner.
“AHHHHHH!!!!! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK-” He screamed, aiming his water bucket anywhere in sight. It seemed the only thing he was good at was cursing, though, due to the fact his water trick indeed had not worked at all– not even in the slightest.
Andrew was falling. Falling, and falling someplace he couldn’t quite see the bottom of. Just like his current situation. And as per usual, the fairly distressed and mildly sweat-covered man began questioning why he even got into all this. As he did, to nobody’s surprise, he kept falling. Andrew was shrouded in darkness, despite he himself being anything but. His lack of sunlight had really taken a toll on him, and now he looked more like the dead than Chris probably did (ouch, harsh)...
In spite of it all, Andrew just kept spamming and spamming the water, with nothing happening. Eventually, he did land, ungracefully so.. And guess what? The water bucket trick did NOT land, also to nobody’s surprise, because it hadn't even worked earlier. What was surprising was that it actually hurt. No more surprising than concerning. Welp. Andrew had blinked once, and now his vision was not of a computer screen, but in fact the POV of that computer screen. Also, not too good.
Now that it seemed Andrew couldn’t just click off once down in this void-like space, he was left with his own thoughts for a while; no more influence from the Smile, nor Chris. Oh, Chris. Andrew winced, but not because of any physical pain. Thinking back on what he had just done was enough for Andrew to suffer more than a thousand years, and the betrayal he had caused with his own stupidity and lack of trust was surely going to be his downfall.
With nothing better to do, Andrew thought. He thought, thought, and thought again. He thought until his head hurt, but it still wasn’t enough. Why had he been looking for Chris? This wasn’t any of his business,; and yet he searched until curiosity killed the cat, fueled by the want- no, the need to see Chris again. But why? Chris was just.. He was just Andrew’s friend. They hadn’t even met in person. Well, they were planning on it this year, but I guess plans can change when your best friend turns into a Minecraft ghost, and you’re tormented by a demon stuck in the game with him who has a mild obsession with wells. I mean, what else could the “Smile” be? It wants to steal Andrew’s soul and lock it in a game; if that doesn’t speak “demon,” Andrew doesn’t know what would.
I mean, maybe it wouldn’t be all bad. He’d stay with Chris forever, finally together on the same plane of existence, free from the world and its problems. No more school, no more work, just fun and him and Chris for all of eternity. A part of him wanted to agree with the Smile. He wanted to yell out, “Take it! Take my body right now!” and another wished he had made a bone block sooner. At the same time, he was still angry with Chris, even though now that anger seemed so very unjustified— perhaps it was the Smile all along, dragging Andrew to his breaking point by force. Because of Chris, Andrew was actually able to keep a clear mind.
He wanted to find a way out. To apologize to Chris, to beg him for forgiveness, but at the same time? Andrew knew he wasn’t getting out of here. Not until the Smile got what he wanted, and oh, he always got what he wanted. It was then that Andrew had burrowed into himself, stifling sorrow, because at least now he knew there was no happy end to this story of his and that it was all his fault. Tears flowed vigorously, and Andrew tried his best to swallow down any possible cries. This was so ridiculous…
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He was pathetic.
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Wait, what was that sound?
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Andrew looked up. It seems tears really did come like floods, ’cause now water was pouring down in a square-shaped stream from up above— someone had poured a water bucket. Though, Andrew didn’t know who until he looked at his inventory, where his once very full bucket was now empty. So… it had worked?
“I must have insane lag.” Andrew murmurs, despite literally being trapped in a game, and walks over to the stream.
It seems Andrew doesn’t have to give up on himself just yet. But.. he’s sure he’ll regret this statement later. Back to the task at hand, the smartest thing to do right now would probably be to find Chris, no question, right? Well, Andrew had not a clue where he could be, as per usual. It seems whenever Andrew’s in trouble, or needs help, he just .. shows up.
Chris appeared at both the worst and best times, even before all this, and no matter how many times Andrew lashed out at him, Chris just consoled him to no end. He was always the type to stay silent about his own issues, and because of it, Andrew was to blame for not seeing issues sooner. If he had asked a little more, if he had listened more, maybe Chris would have been alive right now. Maybe the two would be hugging close, crying, and thanking each other to no end. Maybe then, Andrew would have the confidence to leave little kisses across his face, tell him it was all okay, and make sure Chris knew he would never leave him again.
Thoughts like these, it seemed, were what made Andrew far too weak to withstand issues alone. He doesn’t know how Chris did it, and stayed silent for so long. If it were him, he would’ve haunted Chris for the rest of his life, and he would’ve made it annoying. Andrew stepped inside the stream of water, taking a deep breath. It was a habit by now, to let tears fall whenever he went inside water. Every time Andrew entered or exited a well, he always had the urge to cry. Even when showering or taking a bath, when he was able to coax himself into it, Andrew cried. Not always were they sad tears, but just tears, because at least then he could release his emotions when they were hidden beneath something. If not, then would he ever?
As Andrew floated up the stream, he made it a point to think curiously about how he was actually feeling the water. It wasn’t cold, surprisingly, but it was water. I guess it wasn’t good that he was getting more and more immersed, but maybe it was best to get used to it, because Andrew had very little hope; still, he’d be making it out of this alive. Looking for Chris while also trying not to be seen by the Smile again was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Another thing Andrew made a point of was his excessive use of metaphors and similes.
Anyhow, as said before, Chris was nowhere to be seen. Not a clue in Andrew’s thick skull as to where he could be, and trying to leave this weird office dimension wasn’t any easier. Something about the void Andrew came from was comforting; nobody there to hide from or talk to, nobody to argue with, nothing but himself. Now, he was thrown straight back into constant adrenaline rushes and so many emotional roller coasters he could probably open up his own theme park, naming each ride after one or the other.
He was getting way too off track, but who could blame him? He’d been searching for hours, and came up with nothing. After coming across something similar to a library, though, Andrew decided to take a quick rest. There were many books lining the halls, with glowstone lights and illuminated paintings. It was sweet, and he’d never found Minecraft of all things to look more beautiful than it did right now, because he could see it with his own eyes.
It was only when in rest that a clue came to Andrew.
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“Ugh, not again..”
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“..?”
Everything, in contrast to where he had once been, was colorful and bright around Andrew. The tears he thought were his, as if he could feel them on his own face, were instead upon the face right in front of him. He locked eyes with this person, and for the first time ever, he saw winsome at its finest.
“Chris?”
Amongst the grass and sun, he crawled over. Chris is crying.. That can’t be good. What was Andrew doing before this? How did he get here?
“Chris!”
Chris’s tears seemed to unlock an unsolicited and unspoken misery; all he could think about was one name, and doing so seemed to change it all. No spring needed, because holding onto a memory as strong as him was enough.
“Andrew.”
Chris looked up, and in the distance was.. Andrew? He was crawling, saying something. Chris couldn’t hear, but he knew he had to go. So, he started crawling, too.
The two men, or should I say boys, seemed to turn back time when locking eyes. Even when in this space, this space where they should know of nothing at all, they can still recall one thing: each other. Mud and grass and the smell of fresh rain; these were the things that seemed to ground the two. The idea of reality in a place other than a dream, this alone was different from the first. Even so, as the two came together and held each other with such ease, it did not enjoy the endeavor. Chris didn’t seem to have any interest in revenge against this man. Why not? Well, the fact that the two’s arms were scrambling all over each other in order to check for injuries or maybe just ‘cause they could might be the answer.
Andrew slid his hands all along Chris: his arms, his shoulders, his hand, his face.. Even his hair, despite it being wet for some reason. He wanted to savor it, seeing Chris’s face in person for the very first time, even if it were just as a ghost through some magic video. He, just as Chris was, began to cry. Sob, even, breaking through them with incomprehensible words. Chris cried a lot, too, this being the first time he even showed any honesty with his emotions at all. Andrew wanted to be the first to wipe those tears away, and so he was. He rubbed his fingers across Chris’s face, and hushed his tears into silence and nothingness. It was sweet, being this close. Almost too sweet, because Andrew soon leaned in, as if to fulfill his previous fantasy.
Chris watched through tears and blurry vision as Andrew began to cry too, the warmth of Andrew’s hands all along his body something far too gratifying to let go of. Through Andrew’s broken sobs, he seemed to be saying what Chris tried to understand were words. Though he didn’t understand, he just kept whispering softly ‘I know,’ and didn’t push Andrew away when he started to wipe Chris’s tears. For some reason, for the first time since the well, Chris could feel warmth and touch– and so much of it. It was practically surrounding him, as Andrew continued to go about his consolation of Chris, who didn’t need it as badly as Andrew seemed to.
Chris began hugging Andrew, lifting his arms to go over Andrew’s shoulders, and ran his fingers through Andrew’s hair despite it being anything but soft. Chris didn’t care if Andrew was covered in mud; he’d still hold him close because this alone was his only fantasy. Andrew slipped his hands from Chris’s face to along his waist and soon wrapped his arms all the way around. Chris shivered, letting all the cold in his body slowly fade more and more, and Andrew buried his face deep into Chris’s neck. Because of this, he gasps, Andrew’s lips just barely grazing the skin, and the two sit there in perfect bliss and silence.
Andrew can’t help but stay as close as possible, the guilt wracking through him as he holds the boy he once argued against. He wants to speak, and apologize, but just as he opens his mouth and his breath clashes against Chris’s neck, he hears three words:
“It’s okay, Andrew.”
Andrew freezes, closes his mouth, and his tears slow to nothing. Just as he looks up, gazing up at Chris’s soft, smiling face with the sun framing it just right, everything around them fades to black. Something.. Seems to speak, even without words. Chris gasps, trying to hold onto Andrew, even as they’re slowly forced apart.
“Protocol 14.”
“Chris, what?”
The two are forced to let go, falling into opposite directions of abyss. He can see Chris’s destination: a stage? That’s where the smile was with all his goons! Maybe the smile dragged Chris there, but why? What did any of this mean? Why’d Chris forgive him so fast?!
“Wait-” Andrew goes to speak, sitting up with his eyes wide. He’s awake again. “Wh..?” It was a dream? Why would a dream be so strange as to feel so.. real? He could feel Chris. He could touch him, Chris was there! Andrew stood up right where he was, and before rushing off to find Chris realized two things: his diamond sword was gone, and so was the rose plastered against his suit. Maybe that dream was more than just a dream.
Rushing about the hallways was Andrew, his shortened breaths and excessive running all due to the stress of what could possibly be happening to Chris right now. How could he get down into the area where that stage was? If he didn’t get there quickly, what was going to happen? Even if he wasn’t sure, or didn’t know, something was telling Andrew that if he didn’t do this right now then he’d never get the chance again.
—-
Chris’s eyes flickered open, mind aching still and his body somehow warm. For the first time since getting here, Chris was sweating and shaking. He felt so.. real. So human, and when he thought about who had given him that opportunity in the first place, everything just came undone. He curled up over himself, breaking into harsh and aching cries and he mourned something that was still yet to disappear.
It was hard, staying this way. Chris just didn’t have it in him to believe there was a way out of this. He had lost all hope, and he had lost Andrew. Even if in a dream, that was the last of him Chris would ever get. The first time he ever got to truly see his face— the first time he got to touch it, to touch Andrew at all and feel him beneath Chris’s fingertips. It was the first and last time Chris would ever get to experience his lifelong dream, and all he could do now was grieve it with trembling hands.
Speaking of hands, one came down to grasp at Chris’s hair, tugging him up by it. Above, Chris could see through tears that it was the Smile. His lips, curled up in a fresh smirk, were as flashy as usual; his hands along his hips as his hair in the shape of a hand continued to tug harshly at Chris’s scalp.
“What’s gotten you so down? Did you think I was going to kill you..?” The smile asks, grin still wide as he looks down. “As if I could. You’re already dead, I don’t get why you still put in so much effort.” His grip on Chris’s hair tightened, receiving a small shaken exhale from Chris through the pain it caused him.
“Let go of me,” Chris murmured under his breath, trembling still as he lifted a hand to try and release himself.
The two began to fight, scrambling against one another and throwing around their arms with no true location (really proves the childishness if the two) when Chris finally came to a conclusion that their usual push and shove was useless now. He tossed the Smile off of him, wiping tears from his eyes, as the Smile let out another cruel laugh from deep in his chest. It was horrible, being tormented and made a fool of like this. There was so much yet so little noise around Chris, and all this pent up emotion had made him reminded of that preposition he was given.
A chance.. to get revenge.
No. He shouldn’t take it.. he wouldn’t.. or would he? Chris began to think to himself— considering feeding into It in order to get back at the Smile for all he’d done, and for a moment he almost had. That was when Andrew burst through the doors...
