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He is nothing.
His body goes through the motions, already knowing what to do. Pick and replace flowers. Plant them at the graves. Clear out the overgrown ferns in the garden. Empty out and refill the well. Cleanse himself in the pond. Return to read the book. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
He is nothing, but at least he’s safe here. This is where he’s meant to be. Doing what he can, giving back, keeping the church tidy.
He ignores any ache of protest in his body. He ignores any cry for food from his stomach. He doesn’t need water, he gets plenty from the pond while cleansing himself. Everything else can be ignored. He has work to do. He is nothing, he is safe here, this is what he has to do.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
More flowers at the graves. One day, he will have to dig himself one too and finally be able to rest here, waiting for the next person who comes and takes up the duty of caretaker to plant flowers at his grave, but not yet. He has more to give, so he gives and gives and gives. He has to, it’s the least he can do for being nothing in a safe haven like this.
Plant the flowers, then clear out the ferns, then empty and refill the well, then cleanse himself in the lake, then read the book, then go pick and replace flowers, then find the graves to plant them at, then clear out more of the ferns, then—
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
An endless cycle. It’s the least he can do. He is nothing after all. Nothing and nobody. Just a caretaker of the grounds, like those before him. Just trying to give back to a place that’s done so much for him. He can rest here, but he needs to deserve it first. He has too many faults he needs to make up for. He needs to give everything he can before he can finally deserve to rest like the other caretakers did.
His grave won’t have a name but he doesn’t need one. He is nothing. They’ll know he was a caretaker who served his time and that’s all that matters. Individuality is a selfish notion. He’ll be right at home with the rest of them. It’s more than he deserves, because he deserves nothing. He is nothing. He is nothing. He is nothing.
Repeat.
“—ry?”
Repeat.
“—very."
Re—
“Avery!”
He stops dead as gold gauntlets grip his shoulders in a vice grip. Abruptly, the cycle is paused and he blankly stares up at a golden helmet with concerned, yellow-ish eyes behind it, searching his face frantically. He couldn’t move away even if he wanted to, though something about the figure gives him pause. Nobody else is supposed to be here.
He’s the caretaker, so who is this?
Is his time up already?
“Avery,” the urgent voice says again, a little breathless and… Pained, he thinks? “You— how long have you—” he swears profusely under his breath, trembling ever so slightly. “Avery, you need to wake up.”
Wake up? But he is awake. He blinks, not understanding, and the strange golden gladiator seems to pick up on that pretty quickly. He grips his shoulders tighter, enough where he might have bruises later but can’t really find the will to care about it.
He should be getting back to work. His work is not done. He can’t rest yet.
But he doesn’t even try to pull away, too entranced by the yellow eyes that never once look away from him. They seem… Different, somehow. Something about the body before him is… Familiar, even if he’s pretty sure he’s never met him before.
“Avery,” the gladiator says carefully, “I know what the book told you, but it’s wrong. You are not nothing, you are real. You are a real person— you are allowed to be your own person. You are special, you— you’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met and so compassionate and the best person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, okay?”
With every word out of his mouth, his skin tingles, like he’s remembering what warmth feels like after being cold for so long. His thoughts begin to clash, the idea of being special roaring against the idea that he’s not, that being special is a selfish thing, and he's not anything. Or at least, he’s not supposed to be.
The gladiator’s voice washes over him, stirring some kind of feeling inside of him he thought he buried. He’s thrown off center, head starting to spin— he needs— he needs to find the book again—
“Avery.” The gladiator pulls him closer until they’re almost nose to nose— or the helmet equivalent of a nose anyways. He can feel his breath, shaky but trying to stabilize. “Remember who you are. This is not you. You’re not nothing— I didn’t come here for nothing, I came here for you. Because I care about you. Because you’re special. And I need you to remember that too.”
A shuddering feeling washes over him. He blinks, once, twice, three times over as the world seems to get brighter, both in terms of light and color. It all feels so alive all of a sudden, like he really is waking up from a dream. A dream that— a dream that he—
His throat is dry. His stomach aches, a shakiness in his hands that he didn’t notice before. Avery wakes up to a body on the brink of collapse, a fresh wave of tears rising to his eyes as his legs give out on him.
But the impact from falling doesn’t come. The gladiator anticipates his collapse and holds him steady, gently lowering him until his knees can settle in the grass gently. The two of them are surrounded by blue flowers on all sides that make him feel sick to look at, Avery dropping the ones he picked in his hands as his breathing picks up. Even as his grip is loosened, the contact stays, gently rubbing his arms.
“Hey.” He tells Avery, keeping his voice soft like he doesn’t want to spook him. “Just breathe, don’t think about anything else.”
It’s hard not to— his mind is drowning under hours of new memories, of feeling like nothing, of working until he eventually drops, all now merging with everything Avery already knows. He— he went through the gates after seeing that video, someone having figured out what the book he found in his Minecraft world meant. He had been so disappointed upon seeing nothing but a gold block on the other side of those gates, but when Avery broke it…
He woke up in a world where it was all real. Where his body was made of some sort of solid slime and mountains could disappear in the blink of an eye and gates could transport him to entirely new places and—
And the fear became more visceral. There was no way to log out, the only way he could turn back was by making the whole trek over again. And even if he could turn around and leave, he kept thinking about him. The one who wrote the book, giving him a warning, probably trapped in a weird new reality the same as he was. And Avery had been terrified for almost the entirety of the whole trip, so he couldn’t imagine how the other guy felt if he was going through this alone, probably not expecting anyone to try and come to his rescue.
He was supposed to save him, but Avery hadn’t done much of anything. D3rLord3 was in front of him now, saving him from this— this nightmare he’d gotten himself trapped in, and he looked… Fine. Maybe he didn’t need him after all. Maybe Avery had only burdened him by coming here. Maybe the book was right, he really was worthless.
“Hey.” D3rLord3 barks sharply, giving his forearms a squeeze to refocus his attention on him. “Don’t say that. Never say that. That’s not true.”
Is he speaking out loud without even realizing? He has to be, how else would he know what he said? Avery shakes his head, throat thick and making it feel like he can barely breathe, even if he knows he can. “I— I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I— I couldn’t— I’m not—…”
He can’t seem to finish a sentence, too scrambled, too shaky. Hours. He was here for hours. He doesn’t know exactly how long, only that it was long enough that his rescue has been reversed. Now it’s D3rLord3 pulling him out of an impossible world he’s gotten himself lost in. God, did Avery coming even matter? Now he’s weak, unable to stand up without assistance, and hardly any use to D3rLord3 now—
“Derek.” He says suddenly, causing Avery to look up. He looks a little sheepish, an odd juxtaposition for him while he's wearing full armor. “It’s uh. A little silly hearing you call me by my Minecraft username.”
Derek. A name to the face. Avery’s thoughts are briefly distracted by it before his eyebrows furrow. “Am I… Do I keep speaking out loud or something?”
“No, your thoughts are just very loud right now. I wouldn’t be able to hear them this clearly under normal circumstances. Sorry,” Derek smiles apologetically from under his helmet, “I’m not trying to creep in your head.”
“But… How do you..?”
“Long story, I’ll tell you a little later. The short version is I got all the knowledge in the universe crammed into my head. Great for solving puzzles, terrible for trying to live without a hell of a migraine.” Derek’s smile teeters off, unable to hide the worry underneath. “If you lean on me, do you think you can walk? We need to get out of here.”
Avery finds that even if his legs greatly protest at the idea of him getting up again, the desire to leave is stronger than his desire to stay sitting down. He nods jerkily and Derek is quick to hoist him up and, as hastily as they can move without Avery collapsing again, they make their way to the gates. Several hours upon hours of nonstop work has Avery heavily leaning against Derek’s shoulder, practically being carried by him. For once, his new slime-like body is working in his favor, and the golden armor covering Derek’s body is actually kinda comfortable to lay against.
His eyes flutter shut but Derek gently shakes him. They’re moving across the bridge to the different gate. Looking at it makes Avery feel queasy, wondering what horrors await them, but Derek promises him, “It’s nothing bad, trust me.” And Avery can’t help but believe him.
As promised, nothing but an endless, expansive library greets them when they pass through the gate. A library with chairs that look so achingly comfortable that Avery wants to weep. Derek makes a beeline straight for one and has him sit down, all but going boneless the second he can while Derek pulls another one up to him so he can sit down too. He has them almost knee to knee from how close together they sit, but Avery doesn’t mind in the slightest. The last thing he wants is to be alone right now.
From out of his inventory— because disturbingly real world or not, it still has most of the same mechanics that Minecraft does— Derek pulls out a few apples and places one in Avery’s hand. “Eat.” He tells him. “Rebuild your strength. And don’t worry,” he adds on as a joke, “I don’t think this library has any rules against eating in here.”
It’s a stupid joke. Avery wheeze-laughs anyways.
The apple is crisp and juicy, exactly what he needs after such a horrible day. The flavor bursts in his mouth and Avery devours it in seconds, core and all, uncaring and starting to tremble again as it all catches up to him, memories colliding in his head once again, an endless loop that was intended to slowly kill him, and—
He’s. Crying again. Over a really good apple.
Derek is gonna think he’s pathetic.
“I don’t. Not for a second.” He places another apple in Avery’s hand, pushing it towards him. “I gathered a bunch earlier, eat.”
He does. Avery devours the entirety of every single apple Derek puts in his hand until he’s full, to which Derek seems to know before he voices it out loud. Afterwards, Avery leans back into the chair, nothing short of hollowed out, aside from the apples now inside of him. Derek, having only eaten a single apple at a much slower rate than Avery ate all of his, is silent for a while after finishing, unreadable behind the helmet.
Then his foot knocks against Avery’s, catching his attention, and Avery sees that the concern in his eyes is still there. Maybe it never left.
“Avery,” Derek says. He keeps saying his name like that, so reverently. Like Avery is someone he deeply respects and not some guy who had to be pulled out of his own head, falling for a trick like several others before him. “Can I hug you?”
The question makes Avery’s mind come to a full stop. He almost doesn’t want to ask, yet another favor to add to the pile, but his heart aches because he does. He does want that. He’s never wanted anything more in his life.
Yet again, Derek reads him like one of the many books surrounding them. He scoots forward, closer and closer still, and takes Avery’s hand to tug him forward. A silent invitation to initiate it. And Avery, barely keeping himself together as is, surges forward and falls apart like a wet piece of paper in his arms.
Even with the armor, Derek’s arms are warm and solid, wrapping around him like he’s something worth holding— worth protecting. Avery fits right into him, not completely perfect but perfect enough that he doesn’t really care. He feels stiff and awkward at first, but then Derek murmurs almost right in his ear, “It’s okay, I got you.” And those five little words shatter something inside of him.
His breath hitches at first, then his eyes are misty again, his whole body trembling, and Avery gives in at last. He buries his head into the crook of Derek’s neck, the most comfortable place he can find, and sinks right into him. Maybe literally— he’s made of a weird kind of slime now and he’s not sure what his anatomy really looks like anymore. It feels like the only thing that’s really holding him together is Derek, steady and strong, who doesn’t think less of him for this. Who just wants him to feel okay again. Him. Avery. A guy he barely knows.
“You don’t know me but you tried to come for me anyways.” Derek points out, never loosening his hold. “Why is this so different?”
It feels different in a way Avery can’t explain. He’s tired of trying to make sense of his thoughts— he needs this. This is the best hug he’s ever gotten, he thinks. He can’t actually remember any of the others right now. They don’t matter— Avery doesn’t want to think about it right now.
He clings on for longer than he should, but Derek never once points it out. If anything, he seems to hold on just as tightly, like he’s the one who’s afraid of letting go.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Derek tells him. “It was designed to lure people in like that. The only reason I didn’t end up the same is because I’m already corrupted. What happened to you… It was really messed up, and it wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”
“I…” Avery croaks out. “I feel like I failed you.”
“You haven’t.”
“You… Are you trapped here? I— I wanted to save you.”
“It’s… Complicated.” Derek replies, careful. “I could leave but… You know that ‘Infinite knowledge crammed into my head’ thing I was talking about? Those headaches are a lot deadlier if I’m not in here.”
“You’d die?” Avery asks, getting a nod. “Is there… Anything that can be done about it?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.” He tells him. “Trying to find answers is like looking for a needle in an infinite haystack.”
“…Get a magnet?” Avery jokes weakly. Derek snorts loudly.
“I’m trying.”
“It… Maybe it’ll be easier if there are two people looking instead of one.” He suggests. Derek noticeably pauses at that, sighing softly.
“You don’t owe me anything, you know.”
“I don’t care. I came here for you.” Avery insists, not willing to budge. “I don’t want you to be trapped here for eternity. I hate this place already and knowing you could be stuck here forever is… Terrible. Literally hell.”
Derek exhales again, a small laugh following. “How do you say things like that and somehow not realize how amazing you are? Do you know how many people would’ve wanted to go any further after being in that place for as long as you were?” Derek pushes him back slightly but only so he can look him in the eye. “Because I do. Infinite knowledge in my head, and as far as I can tell, not a single person would. Nobody but you would go this far to save me.”
“That… Feels like an exaggeration.” Avery chuckles slightly but Derek doesn’t.
“It’s not. I’m being completely serious.”
“Surely at least a handful of people would?”
“Not. One.” Derek grabs his face, urgent and intense, so he looks him dead in the eye. “I meant every word I said. You are special. You are the most important person I’ve ever known. It’s just you, Avery. Do you understand that?”
He doesn’t. He can’t. It doesn’t make sense to him. Surely he’s just doing what anybody else would.
“You’re not. Others might’ve come this far but everyone else would’ve turned back by now. You’re the only one who would stay after that nightmare you were in just to save someone you’ve only met once.”
“No.” Avery blurts out, causing Derek to raise an eyebrow at him. “The— the book. You wrote it to me, that was technically our first meeting. And you warned me, someone you also have never met, so whatever I am, you are too.”
“It’s different for me.” Derek says, then doesn’t elaborate. “But regardless, don’t apologize to me for something that wasn’t your fault. And… Thank you. Even if I would rather you be safe, I didn’t think anyone would willingly come this far for me.”
“I… I had to do something.” Avery admits to him. “I couldn't just leave it alone.”
Derek smiles fondly, like he knew he was going to say that but likes hearing it out loud anyways. It takes Avery a bit to want to pull away, sinking back into his seat, but he does in the end. If he stayed any longer, he’d basically be sitting in Derek’s lap.
…Avery isn’t sure if that would be a bad thing. He gets the odd feeling that neither of them would really mind. Probably weird to do to a guy you just met though.
Avery clears his throat, feeling a bit awkward. “Hey, thanks for pulling me out of that. It was— it wasn’t good.” He says, not wanting to go into further detail. He can still feel the chill that place gave him deep in his being, and if he thinks about it too hard, he might get nauseous. “I would still be there if you didn’t.”
“Of course.” Derek nods back. “We have to look out for each other here. It’s out to get us, it’s the best way we can both survive.”
“And… What is this place exactly?” He asks hesitantly.
“It’s a lot to explain.” Derek warns. “Are you sure you want to hear it now?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Avery shoots him a weak smile. “Hit me with it.”
After a pause, Derek nods and asks him, “Have you ever heard of the King in Yellow?”