Chapter Text
Death was always inevitable in the short span of human life. And despite any effort that was put into making existence bearable while living with that fact, it was all pointless in the very end.
Derek didn't learn that after he'd seen the king behind those gates. It had always been there. A belief in the back of his mind that everything would come to an end. And at an early age he convinced himself; his life especially, would be short–lived.
So then why?
"...Why am I still alive?" he chocked out, sprawled out in the floor of his room. The room spun as he tried to remember what had happened.
He remembered crying and being on the verge of passing out before—
Avery
The pain was momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by the desperate need to check. To confirm that he had saved him. But he soon realized after a few seconds that moving wasn't an option. His head hurt. Everything hurt.
He never felt this much pain before. He felt like throwing up and passing out at the same time.
But he was still alive.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
Or maybe he was dead. Maybe this was just another one of the King's plans to make him suffer as much as possible for ruining everything he had built.
But Derek couldn't help but hope that somehow, that bastard had failed to fully consume his mind. That he still had a chance to do something more.
A chance to get to know him. A chance for them to get to know each other. Properly this time.
Under any circumstances, Derek would've dismissed that thought. He would've told himself it was stupid to even consider the possibility of meeting Avery properly once everything was over.
But right now he was tired and in too much pain. He didn't have the energy to lie to himself.
He closed his eyes tightly, trying to at least think clearly. It was hard when his mind was constantly filling with information, but now it was nearly impossible to even know what was around him when his body also refused to cooperate.
Derek had predicted this—the pain, the helplessness of not being able to do anything—but he would lying to himself again if he said he didn't want anyone to save him.
In fact, that was his first thought when he realized in the first few days that his fridge wasn't going to supply him forever.
Somehow, the thought of food hit him next. Which was ironic since that was the least of his concerns when he was running through the doors.
He didn't want to even think about what would happen if the King survived.
Derek spent a few minutes, just staying still, waiting for anything to happen. He imagined the King suddenly bursting into his room, demanding revenge.
That, of course, did not happen.
Instead he confirmed that the pain was slowly going away. It still hurt like hell, but surprisingly not as much as when he woke up.
Derek's first instinct was to grab his phone. He knew it was on his desk, he hadn't even tried to look at it back then, too afraid the ringing would start again. He braced himself before forcing his arm to move, finally pushing himself off the floor. Apparently, doing it as quickly as possible was not a good idea.
He immediately sank back down, his breath coming in and out through sharp gasps.
It hurts.
"Shit—" he gritted his teeth and waited a few more minutes before trying again.
His hands took a while to get a good grip on his bed before he finally managed to sit up. He groaned, trying to find his bearings but his body still felt like lead. At least now he had a better view of his room.
The window was closed shut so he had no clue what time it was, nor how much time had passed. The floor was littered with empty plastic bags and bottles. Derek didn't even want to look at under his table. He remembered throwing all the trash in there, just hoping it would hit the trash can—which, of course, was unlikely.
He was vaguely aware of the glowing screen of his computer, but he didn't dare look. It was still on, so it hadn't been long enough for it to run out of power.
After a few more seconds of feeling around, he finally grabbed ahold of his phone. He sighed in relief when it opened. He half-expected it have run out of battery.
Thump
Without warning, a loud noise from outside his room made him jolt. Was that...?
His heart hammered in his chest as he scrambled to get up.
"Ugh... who's there...?" He knew whatever it was could've barely heard him, his voice was strained and hoarse from how long he hadn't used it. The wall was the only reason he hadn't collapsed back to floor.
Derek grabbed his lamp from the bedside table, not really paying attention if it would break in his grip. The only thing that concerned him was that noise. His legs stumbled but they managed to bring him to the door.
"W-who's there?!" he demanded again, trying to sound more clear but he couldn't stop the way his voice faltered. Hell, even his hands were shaking uncontrollably despite having both gripping the lamp.
He leaned against the wall in an attempt to keep himself up.
"Fuck... H–haven't you had enough—?!"
The door burst open and he practically flinched, the light from the hallway was a sharp contrast to his dimly lit room. And Derek confirmed that he infact could barely see what was infront of him.
He held up the lamp infront of him on instinct, his eyes wide as he tried to see clearly. His first thought was to scream—to attack even. Because what if the King was here? What if he had failed?
However, in an instant, hands were gripping his shoulder—warm and firm, and undoubtedly human—guiding him down to the floor.
"—Derek?!"
Their hands travelled up to cup his face.
"Derek! Snap out of it!"
What?
Someone was here.
Someone he knew.
That realization immediately made him relax. The adrenaline he felt earlier suddenly running out until he felt his head fall on something soft.
Fabric? Their shoulder, most likely.
He caught a glimpse of their eyes—wide and panicked—right before he lost consciousness.