Chapter Text
18 hours, 45 minutes, and 28 seconds. (And 34.84 milliseconds, but who's counting?)
That is the precise amount of time Derek has spent waiting underneath a lectern for a man who, despite the countless warnings, clear signs, and a 45-minute analysis video documenting Derek's spiral into madness, was actively trying to search for him. Derek would have called Avery an idiot if he didn't quietly admire Avery's bravery despite the circumstances. Besides, Avery would be the first person Derek would interact with in months. His phone had been dead for well over 2 months at this point-not that he'd be able to reach it, mind you- and he knew for a fact he had his email notifications on, but nothing came through. He'd been alone, by himself, doing nothing but play Minecraft. All he had to look forward to was the fated day he'd meet Avery. But as Derek sat there, waiting for Avery to show up, something in his gut...twisted. And he was sure it wasn't because he'd been drinking nothing but soylent for the past few months, not this time.
No, he was certain something was off. Incredibly off.
It was the same feeling that Derek felt when Avery-or "Fakevery", as Derek called him in his mind- randomly joined him in the mountains, rambling about "Kanye's Game of Life" and exploring the world together rather than walking toward the tree that loomed in the far distance. Sure, Fakevery spoke like Avery. He walked and leapt like Avery. He even, on occasion, resonated with Derek the way Avery would. But there were glaring holes in the disguise that Derek could spot right away. Fakevery spoke with a strange confidence that Derek knew Avery didn't have, and his disposition was suspiciously cheerful and friendly, given the circumstances. It mocked him, how poorly they'd portrayed Avery. Avery was nothing like the plastic knockoff Hastur concocted to tempt Derek from continuing his journey through the realms. In fact, it was so insultingly bad that it made Derek's fist clench. For a god known for tormenting theater nerds, Hastur sure sucked at acting.
It made sending Fakevery into the void all the more satisfying, even though he knew he'd probably be punished by the King for his insolence later down the line.
This time, though, there was no Fakevery. There was no clear sign of anything askew, nothing for Derek to observe as a red flag. (Or in this case, a yellow flag.) This time...It was nothing. And somehow, that was worse.
Derek shifted uncomfortably in his spot, starting to pace around on the small platform he had built. He ran backward in his brain through all the realms he had visited thus far. Avery wasn't a code-solver by any sense of the imagination, so he already assumed Avery would be stuck on one of the more tricky puzzles Hastur left behind. But even so, Derek figured Avery would find a way to him. That man would find a way through bedrock if he could. So then why was Avery taking so long? Derek was sure he'd left enough of a trail for Avery to follow him. He even made sure to leave a message by the church in case Avery was unfortunate enough to read the book and--
The book.
Avery was still at that damn church, wasn't he?
Derek never ran out of a library as fast as he did in his life. He abandoned his post under the lectern and dashed to the door as fast as his legs could take him. He fled down the corridor that the door led him to and almost slammed into the next door in his panic, but quickly recovered and slid into the gate. And soon enough, Derek found himself back in the familiar overgrown sanctuary.
If Derek wasn't aware of the King and his eldritch nature, this particular world could have been a sanctuary that Derek wouldn't mind resting in. But when it came to the King, nothing could ease the tense atmosphere that lingered in the air like fog. Though the sun shone brightly overhead on the grassy hills and trees swayed gently in the breeze, the enclosed sanctuary gave off anything BUT comfort and safety. The impossibly tall walls around the chapel had no way through or into the space, which made it almost feel mockingly pastoral compared to the cold, rigid structures up above. Even the calm spring breeze felt like an omen in this place, somehow --though none of these were the part Derek focused on.
The first thing he noticed was the signs he had left behind earlier. He was never really good at writing comforting words if he was being honest with himself, but he was sure that they'd do something against Hastur's influence. "You are real, you are special. Remember who you are." Cheesy, maybe, but true. Derek wished he could have used his infinite knowledge to come up with something better, but he figured it'd be fine...Right?
Derek turned around on his heel to reread his signs, but to his horror, his words were scratched out, with a response written in sloppy, jagged letters:
"All things die in the eyes of time, friend."
"Thank you for the reminder, though."
"...No," Derek muttered, fists clenched so tight his gauntlets scraped together like nails on a chalkboard.
"No, no, who did that..."
Derek whipped his head around to the chapel. Where was Avery? What happened while Derek was gone? Who wrote that response? And why, even with all the information in the world, could Derek not find an answer for any of it?
His eyes dart about. There were too many things changed since he last came here. There were fewer flowers around the chapel now, and the grass wasn't as tall as he remembered. The gravestones around the chapel seemed to have been cleaned up since he last came here, and in the lake, he saw a faint blur of black and green that was slowly sinking into the lake--
"AVERY!?"
Derek jumped right into the lake without a second thought. The cold water seeped into his clothes and stung his skin, but he steeled his veins and sucked in a breath. Digging his feet into the shifting sand and sediment to prevent himself from falling into the deep end, Derek crouched and reached with both arms into the water, fingers desperately grabbing at anything he could to get the other out of the lake. His hands wrapped around what he could only guess was Avery's arm and shoulder as he proceeded to pull with all his might, yanking Avery out of the lake with so much force Derek accidentally slipped and fell backward. Derek instinctively wrapped his arms around Avery's chest to protect him as they fell to the grassy ground below, cushioning Avery's fall with his own body...As much as he could, wearing full Spartan armor, anyway.
Derek groaned in pain as his head hit the solid ground, but he turned his focus to Avery instead. He carefully slid Avery to the ground next to him and knelt before him, taking stock of Avery's current state.
Avery was shivering from the cold, weakly coughing, and sputtering water into his arm. His eyes were blurry with tears, and his clothes were all wet and covered in dirt, sand, and grass stains. His pockets were stuffed with blue orchids, and his hands were caked in mud and covered in small scratches.
"Avery, thank God," Derek began, moving to wipe away Avery's tears. "I thought I'd never see you."
"I-" Avery hiccuped, looking up at Derek with shaking eyes. "...What..."
"It's okay, it's okay," Derek assured him, moving to unclasp his cape. He didn't have much to warm up Avery, so he'd have to work with what he had. "Just breathe."
Avery shakily complied with Derek's suggestion, deepening his breaths the best he could while Derek wrapped Avery in his cape, shifting Avery's position so he was now sitting upright.
"Deep breaths, Avery. You need air. Just...Just let me help you--"
"Who are you?" Avery asked weakly, blinking slowly at Derek. "...You're not one of the regulars," He continued, head tilting curiously.
Derek froze. "I'm D3rlord3?" He pointed at himself. "You wanted to look for me?" Derek's heart sank. "You saw a video by Wifies about me because I played in your world before you got to it, remember? And you're playing on my laptop?"
Derek watched Avery's face scrunch in further confusion as Avery mulled over Derek's words, scratching his head with his hand. He had hoped that his words would immediately ring a bell, but no sign of recollection or recognition came on Avery's face.
"...Do you know who you are?" Derek asked carefully, his hands shaking slightly. "Avery?"
Avery fell silent, staring blankly at Derek like he was speaking French, before he solemnly shook his head no. "I'm sorry, you must be looking for a different Avery. I'm Carcosa's realmkeeper."
Avery smiled kindly at Derek, adjusting the way Derek's crimson cape sat on his shoulders. "If you'd like, we could talk after I meditate on the readings?"
Derek's heart shattered. This was what Avery was reduced to for the past 18 hours. Gone were his hopes, his dreams, his past--and in its place was...This. A husk of a person, a person who had no past to cling to and no future to yearn for. All that was left...was Carcosa. Nothing but graves, blue flowers, grass, lakes, and the church. Nothing but eternal service to the King.
He could do nothing but stare at Avery as he stood up and smiled wider at Derek. "I'll be in the church if you need me, kay? Hope you find your Avery!"
And just like that, as if it was nothing but pleasant conversation, Avery skipped away from Derek into the chapel, while Derek stayed frozen in place, helplessly wondering to himself where he had gone wrong.
He had failed Avery. But maybe...Just maybe, it wasn't too late to win Avery's life back.