Chapter Text
Avery didn’t like feeling helpless. He didn't like how it felt like no matter what he did, nothing could change the outcome.
And the outcome was that D3rlord3 – Derek – was dead. From the moment Avery saw the death screen after being pushed from the platform into the void, to going back in his footage to find the Google Drive link and D3rlord3’s video note; to right now, laying in his bed, quiet sobs still escaping his lips, drowned out by the loud fireworks going off. Avery knew he was too late.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
His room was dark, lit up only by his computer screen and the occasional bright light of a firework outside his window. He was clutching one of his pillows like his life depended on it, the fabric wet with tear stains.
Please don’t think you failed, Avery.
How was he not supposed to think that? He couldn't save D3rlord3. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't. He couldn't… He squeezed the pillow tighter. He didn't want to get up, because that meant looking at the laptop monitor, which meant looking at the letter.
When you read this, don’t think you let me down. You didn't.
There was no comfort in those words. Avery couldn't bring himself to believe them, which if anything made him feel even more guilty. Like he couldn't trust D3rlord3 enough to believe them. Like the knight would lie to make him feel better.
...Would he?
That was the worst part. Avery didn't even know D3rlord3 enough to know for sure. He hardly knew him at all. Would he lie in his letter to try to comfort Avery? Did it even matter if it was a lie or not, considering the person affected was now–
In a burst of energy, Avery sent his pillow flying across his room, hitting the laptop hard and flipping it over. He wasn't sure if it broke the laptop in half, and he didn't care – if anything it felt good to destroy something, except that was D3rlord3’s laptop, the one and only thing that he had left of him, and it was probably broken too, and it was his fault. Everything was his fault.
Now, with nothing to hold, he wrapped his arms around himself instead, sobs still wracking his body as he curled in on himself.
He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, sunlight filtered through his window, and his clock on his bedside table read 7:33am. For one blissful moment, he convinced himself everything that had happened was a bad dream. But everything from the day before came rushing back almost instantly, and the deep ache in his chest returned, reminding him of how helpless and useless he was.
He bit down on his lip to stop him from crying again, and decided to check his phone. No messages, but he expected that; he hadn't really made friends in college yet, and his family hadn't talked to him since he came out to them.
Just like yesterday, he didn’t know what to do, but it didn't feel the same. Yesterday he felt terrified. He felt inadequate. Like he wasn't the right person to help, like it should've been someone else, someone who did know what to do. Today, he felt empty. There was nothing left to do.
D3rlord3 was gone. How was he supposed to just move on, after all that? How was he supposed to just go back to normal? It was not like he had much to go back to. Sure, winter break was going to end in a few days, and he’d start his classes again. He’d go back to his job on campus as a barista making minimum wage and barely surviving off of it. But until then, his only plan was to grind Skywars all break, and now the thought of even looking at the laptop on his desk filled him with immense dread.
Minecraft was, admittedly, his one singular hobby. He was pretty good at PvP and desperately wanted to get better at building, though despite being an avid Grian viewer he still couldn't get the hang of it. The game was such a big part of his life that he didn't know what he was supposed to do without playing it.
So he laid in bed.
The next time he moved, it was to look at his clock again.
9:48am.
A thought crossed his mind that if he didn't move, he’d waste the day.
11:28am.
He didn't care.
1:52pm.
4:02pm.
7:23pm.
8:40pm.
The only thing he bothered to do the whole day was go to the bathroom. Every time he sat up to do so he felt lightheaded, as if he was floating, and sure enough he was right back in bed before even thinking about the fact he got up.
The laptop sat untouched on his desk, still knocked over with the pillow covering the screen. He didn’t want to assess the damage. The thought of even touching it made him feel sick. What if he broke the laptop forever? If he didn't look, there was a chance it was still working. But if it was working, then he’d have to look at D3rlord3’s note again.
It was best to just not touch it.
January 5th. Five days had passed already.
Avery felt the buzz of a notification on his phone – the first since… well. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment he allowed himself to hope that somehow D3rlord3 was alive, that he knew Avery’s phone number from the infinite knowledge he had, that he was fine and that he wanted to meet up and talk–
It was his manager, asking him where he was, and reminding him to give at least 24 hour notice if he couldn't make a shift. Avery ignored it.
The second notification, a couple hours later, was an email from a professor of his, reminding him that attendance for her class is graded and unexcused absences were unacceptable. Avery ignored it.
The third notification, around noon, was a spam email, something about a department wanting him to fill out a survey or questionnaire or something. He didn't even bother reading the full notification before shoving his phone under the pillow.
However, he knew he couldn't sustain this for long. His body was starting to get extremely sore from laying in bed all day, and soon enough he’d get fired from work for not showing up, and he would be forced to drop out of college and beg his parents to move back in with them. Or, live on the streets, because he would rather do that than live with his parents again.
And, he was really, really hungry. He had hardly eaten anything the past five days. He had some granola bars on his desk, which on the second day he mustered enough energy to grab, but those were long gone now.
He knew all of this, logically, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care. Why should he? He couldn't save D3rlord3. Why did he get to live, when the man who was clearly smarter and better than him didn’t? It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair, yet it happened. And the worst part was, D3rlord3 clearly expected Avery to live with it.
You’re capable of great things. You’ll do great things. So believe in yourself.
Avery felt torn. He unfortunately had a choice to make. He could trust that D3rlord3 was right. That he was capable. That he didn't let the knight down. That it wasn't his fault. Or, he could decide that D3rlord3 only wrote those words in an attempt to make him feel better about his imminent death.
He stared at his ceiling, contemplating both options. Whenever he began to heavily consider one, doubt and guilt would begin to creep in. He really, truly wanted to believe that D3rlord3 was being truthful in his letter – but what if he wasn’t? But, assuming that D3rlord3 would lie was assuming that was something the knight would do, and would he do that?
Avery felt like he was back at the crossroads, trying to make a decision on which way to go. He turned to his side, facing the laptop, still laying there, still possibly broken.
Whatever you do at the crossroads, keep going forward.
Avery sat up suddenly, coming to a realization that it didn't matter. Not in the way where he thought nothing mattered; it didn't matter because his logic was flawed.
His head suddenly felt clearer than it had since New Year’s Eve. It didn't matter if D3rlord3’s words were just to comfort Avery, or if the knight truly meant them. It didn't change the outcome. Derek was still dead. Maybe Avery did fail, maybe it was his fault. But he had to keep going. What mattered was that he believed in himself, not D3rlord3. That's what the knight was truly trying to tell him.
Did he believe in himself? He could try. He owed it to Derek.
No.
He owed it to himself.
He got up, his legs sore from disuse, and he walked to his desk, and finally looked at the laptop. The screen had been flung back from the pillow, and one of the hinges had snapped, but upon wiggling the mouse, it still woke up. It wasn't broken. Not entirely.
The screen still displayed the video note that D3rlord3 left, and although the thought of reading it again made Avery’s stomach churn, he forced himself to at least inspect it. The channel was named ‘dhutchins333’. Derek Hutchins. A full name.
Avery had found this laptop in a storage locker. He never really considered it at the time, but that meant there was a chance D3rlord3 lived nearby. He started with a simple Google search of Derek’s name and the city they were in. There were plenty of sites that offered reports based on public data, and sure enough one of them seemed to match Derek’s name and possible location. The other matches were hundreds of miles away, so Avery figured the closest was probably the correct choice. He copy-pasted the knight's address into Maps and, sure enough, it was an apartment complex not too far from the storage locker.
Avery could bike there in twenty minutes.
His heart was racing, but something held him back from immediately leaving. A few things, actually, but mainly he was scared of what he’d find. Did Derek live alone? Was his rotting corpse still sitting at his computer? Avery thought back to those stories of people smelling a horrible smell, and finding out later that their neighbor had passed away and hadn’t been discovered until days later. His heart twisted in sorrow and guilt. He really, really hoped that wasn't the case.
He was pulled away from his thoughts by another notification from his phone. His manager had texted him again. He finally opened his texts, anxiety gnawing away at him.
-
Where are you? You were scheduled today. Remember I need 24hrs notice if you’re going to miss a shift
Sent 7:12am
Are you sick? I’m going to have to give your shift to someone else tomorrow if you don't respond. I need someone opening tomorrow
Sent 12:32am
-
Avery didn't know what to say. He realized he couldn't tell anyone about what happened, because who would even believe him? It's not like he had many people to tell anyway. And to be honest, he wasn't really sure exactly what happened himself.
He needed to say something, though. Maybe not the truth, but something close to it.
-
sorry its been a rough couple days
Sent 12:34pm
a friend killed himself on my e
Sent 12:35pm
nye*
Sent 12:35pm
i can work tmr if you need me though
Sent 12:36pm
I’m really sorry for your loss, Avery. Please take the whole week off. I’ll make sure you're paid for it.
Sent 12:38pm
Remember there are resources on campus, don’t hesitate to use them if you need them. You're not alone.
Sent 12:39pm
thanks, i appreciate it, i will
Sent 12:42pm
-
Avery bit his lip to stop himself from crying. His manager was nice, and he did appreciate it, but she didn’t know the true story. Avery was alone. The only person who knew about what happened was him, and he barely even knew anything. And he couldn't tell anyone.
Now with the threat of being fired out of the way, he turned his attention back to D3rlord3’s address.
Realistically, there was no reason to go. D3rlord3 was already dead. Avery was too late. But he wasn't sure he could just go back to normal life. Not without knowing more.
I just don't want to be forgotten.
Avery didn't know a single thing about Derek or his social life, but he figured that if he had a good one, he wouldn't be as worried about being forgotten.
He didn't want Derek to be forgotten either.
For the first time in days, he actually cooked and ate food, showered, and stretched to get the soreness out of his muscles. He had made up his mind. He couldn't save D3rlord3, but he could find out more about him. He could honor him in death, and keep his memory alive.
Avery had to just keep going forward.
The apartment complex was in a quiet part of the city, and didn't look much fancier than his own apartment. He visibly relaxed upon realizing there was no deathly smell permeating from the door he now stood in front of, but he still felt nervous. Gathering up every ounce of courage, he brought his hand to the door and knocked.
Nothing happened.
He knocked again, louder, more desperately.
Nothing.
He didn't know what he expected. Maybe that D3rlord3 had a roommate or family member or something. Avery looked around, but other than a car driving past, no one was nearby.
He tried the door, but it was locked. Obviously. Why wouldn't it be? Whoever found his body must've locked the door so nothing would get stolen until his family could go through his belongings. Which was not ideal for Avery, since how was he supposed to find out more about Derek now?
Suddenly, a genius idea came to mind. He pulled out his phone, went to YouTube and typed ‘how to lockpick for beginners’, clicking the first video that showed up. The video explained to him what sort of tools he’d need, which was a problem because he didn't even own any, let alone have them on him. He cursed and closed the video, trying to think of other ways to break in.
God, what was he doing? He could get in big trouble for breaking and entering. He shouldn’t even be considering this.
The apartment was on the ground floor, and on the corner of the complex. Which meant there was a side window. Which, upon Avery yanking it, opened smoothly.
He really shouldn't be considering this.
He looked around once more, this time accounting for video cameras as well as people. Nothing caught his eye.
He quickly climbed in, shutting the window behind him and looking around the room he just broke into. This wasn't even confirmed to be D3rlord3's apartment. If anything, he just broke into some random person's home who just so happened to share the same name as Derek.
He could be in serious trouble if he was wrong about this.
Avery’s heart was racing with adrenaline as he poked around the studio apartment. There wasn't much. A bed in the corner, a desk with a PC setup with a mini fridge next to it, and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. The room did stink, but not of death; mainly body odor and spoiled food. There were hundreds of notes, sticky notes and ripped out pages strewn about. Seemingly random things like ideas and reminders and facts. Spoiled cups and pieces of food sat on top of some, staining the paper with their seeping juices. Avery wrinkled his nose in disgust.
One of the notes sat on top of the keyboard, which caught Avery’s eye. It was folded over. He picked it up, looking at the writing on the top.
N=10
Not knowing what that meant, he ignored it, unfolding the paper.
TheMostMayo
(Passwor l
Avery’s eyes widened. The handwriting was shaky, but clearly legible, though the last line seemed to veer off as if the pen had slipped.
This was Derek’s apartment. With his heart beating in his ears he powered on the computer, only to be met with a login screen asking for a password. His heart sank. How was he supposed to find a password in all these notes?
First he tried 'N=10', but it was incorrect. Of course D3rlord3 wouldn’t make this easy. He looked back at the note in his hands. Surely the password wasn't ‘(Passwor l’?
He typed it anyway, and sure enough, it also returned as incorrect. He looked around at the other notes, but none of them looked vaguely password-y to Avery. He also tried ‘Password’ and ‘(Password)’ with no luck.
“How am I supposed to know what your stupid password is,” Avery mumbled to himself quietly, his voice strained from disuse.
He looked at the note again. If Derek was trying to write “(Password)” but fell unconscious while writing the “d”, then maybe he was indicating that the writing above it was the password.
Avery’s hands shook slightly as he typed in his own Minecraft username and hit enter.
It opened.
The computer desktop was very similar to how he first found the laptop. Clean, with a couple programs installed, one of which being Minecraft. One of his folders on the desktop was labelled ‘Photos’.
Avery pushed down his guilt as he hovered his mouse over the folder. He felt like this was an insane breach of privacy. He shouldn't even be here. He opened the folder anyway. It was a backup of a phone’s camera roll - most of the photos were of notes, or some random thing at the store. A lot of them were sunsets from the window Avery had used to break in.
Avery’s breath hitched when he found the first selfie.
It was Derek. It had to be.
The photos seemed to be of him inspecting a new haircut he got. There were four of them in various angles, showing off each side of his head. He was… surprisingly handsome. Avery closed the photos, a mix of embarrassment and sadness in his chest. If he had met Derek normally, he probably would have fallen in love with him immediately.
Or did that happen regardless?
He closed the folder. He didn't want to think about that right now. Or ever, ideally.
He wandered through a couple more folders. Some homework assignments that D3rlord3 seemed to have saved despite them being years old. One folder, labelled "Solved Ciphers", had what Avery assumed to be what was written on the tin. He clicked on one at random - one called Circular Bit Shift - to see a series of numbers and letters, grouped into two, along with the solution pasted under it, and a short explanation of how it worked.
D3rlord3 was obviously very interested in puzzles. Upon looking closer at the programs, other than Minecraft he had a bunch of puzzle games installed. Avery couldn't help but smile at that. At least he was familiar with Derek’s love for puzzles.
Opening the web browser, surprisingly, didn't tell him much. There were no bookmarked sites, no search history, nothing of interest. Avery immediately went to Google Drive, and sure enough, that same drive was there. And so were many others, most of which were more personal. A homework drive, again untouched for years. Some projects left unfinished. Some more photos.
After thoroughly searching through everything, Avery wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to know more about Derek, but he felt like he didn't learn anything at all.
...Except what he looked like. Avery went back to the photo, where the man was looking straight at the camera. Impulsively, he opened up D3rlord3’s email and attached the photo, sending it to his own email.
As he did so, an email at the top of the list caught his eye. It was that same spam email he got earlier today. Sent at the same time.
And it had been opened.
He didn't open it on Derek’s account, that was for sure. He knew he hadn't clicked on it. So why was it greyed out as if it had been read?
He clicked on the email, curiosity getting the better of him.
-
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