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It was January 21st.
Three weeks since New Year's Eve.
Three weeks since D3rlord3 had pushed him off that cliff to save him.
Avery had sprinted back from his spawnpoint to the mine, but when he’d gone to the entrance of the cave it was just… gone. The rest of the caves were still there, but where the hidden city that led to the gates had been was completely gone, down to the void. Avery had screamed into chat for at least an hour, begging Derek to come back. He couldn’t honestly tell you how long he’d spent staring at his monitor after. He was pretty sure his body forced him to sleep right there at his desk.
Avery was doing okay. Sure, he couldn’t pass by the knight statue outside the lecture halls without his body recoiling with guilt, but he was… functioning. Mostly.
He’d resorted to doing what little of his schoolwork he could do on his phone. The rest had been ignored. He couldn't bring himself to turn his monitor back on again, not when he knew it’d open to Minecraft taunting him from his desktop.
He hadn’t checked in with his mom, which he’d usually do pretty frequently, but she’d immediately be able to tell something was wrong.
It wasn’t like he could tell anyone. God, where would he even start with explaining something like this? It sounded insane, he’d already spent far more days drowning in his grief over Derek than he’d even known him.
He’d wanted to find Derek, just for closure’s sake (and because there was a small part of him that still believed he was alive), but how the hell was he supposed to find him? He had posted on some forums about the username D3rlord3, but he’d gotten no responses. It was hopeless. He wasn’t a genius, this wasn’t even a puzzle to solve.
His phone buzzed a low tune that pulled him out of his thoughts. He half-heartedly looked at the notification.
You have a package in the mailroom. Please come collect it at your earliest convenience.
Huh.
He hadn’t ordered anything and no one should have been sending him anything. Why would he have a package?
He glanced around his dorm room as though expecting to find the answer on the wall. After a few beats of the walls unsurprisingly giving him no response, he sighed and crawled out of bed. Slipping on a pair of slides, he grabbed his student ID off of the desk before dragging himself out the door and towards the elevator. He clicked the button, stepping back before the doors opened and he went in.
The mailroom for his dorm was on the bottom floor, so he tiredly punched in the floor number. Thankfully, no one else got in on the way there and forced it to stop.
The door dinged and opened. Avery walked out and headed to the mailroom.
The person at the desk glanced up at him, “Name and ID?”
“Uh– Avery McAlister,” he said as he set his ID on the desk. The person looked at his ID, then back at him, before moving to pull his package out of a cabinet. They brought it back, placing a paper and pen on top.
“Sign here,” they told him. He quickly scrawled his name down before handing it back to them. They gave him a half-hearted nod and he grabbed the package, making a beeline for the elevator again.
Once he was inside, he finally got a decent look at the name on the package.
Maria Hutchins.
He… didn’t know a Maria Hutchins, but it was addressed to him, and his exact dorm number.
How would they know that?
The elevator doors opened and he headed back to his dorm. Plopping himself and the box on the floor, he quickly snipped the tape away and opened the top.
There was something wrapped in bubble wrap, too thick for him to tell at a glance what it was, but on top was a piece of paper, neatly folded.
He pulled away the small bit of tape keeping it folded and opened it up.
It was a letter.
Avery,
My name is Maria Hutchins. I’m unsure if you know who I am. We recently found my son Derek passed away in his apartment due to unknown reasons. They labeled it a heart-attack, but I suspect that’s only because they don’t know what else to call it.
Derek left a note on his desk, requesting whoever found him to send this to you. I don’t know how you knew my son, but you were clearly close if he trusted you with these. He was always so protective over his tech.
Maria Hutchins
Avery stared at the letter for a few beats before his hands fell limp and it slipped out. Without thinking, he pulled out the bubble-wrapped object and frantically began unwrapping it.
A pair of headphones. Nearly solid black, but there were gold rings around the ears, with smaller crimson rings inside.
They were far from being in perfect condition. Several scuff marks littered the ears and part of the fabric around the headband was torn, leaving the foam underneath exposed. Paint on one of the rings had been worn away with time.
But god they were his.
A strangled sob pried itself from Avery’s throat. Hot tears pooled in the corner of his eyes, nearly burning because of how dry his eyes were.
“Dammit—” he choked out before sobs took over his breathing. Nails seemed to dig into his chest painfully as one of his hands ran through his hair.
He was really gone and there was no changing that.
If Avery hadn’t been so goddamn stupid. If he hadn’t fallen for that damn inventory trick, if he hadn’t let his own foolishness get the better of him, thinking Derek had found another way.
Derek was fucking gone before Avery even got to know him. Derek knew everything about him and Avery didn’t even get to learn his birthdayHe was dead, He was dead, it’s all your fault you were supposed to—
Avery stood up, frantically digging through the drawer of his desk until he found the right cord. He plugged it into the outlet on his wall before plugging the headphones in. The light changed to blinking a yellow.
Avery took a shuddering breath. He sat there for a while, next to the headphones as they slowly charged.
He knew charging the headphones couldn’t bring Derek back to life, but part of him needed it. He couldn’t let another part of Derek die.
He looked at the letter again, noticing something he hadn’t before. Under Maria’s name was a phone number.
He read it over a few times before pulling his phone out and typing it in.
Hey, it’s avery, derek’s friend. would you be willing to talk?