Chapter Text
A
V
E
R
Y
– 1 –
When he wasn't restless, Avery often dreamed of separated things.
The first and most frequent was Derek. Avery was perpetually haunted by the same nightmares of losing him over and over again, and each time he thought of different ways he could have saved him. He would act them out in his mind, wondering what would have happened if he had done this instead of that, if he had just been smarter – better – until his stomach felt sour and he couldn’t anymore.
The other, more recent, was of a world. It was dark, never quiet but never silent either, and he drifted for hours in an ocean. Deep enough that it was hard to breathe, yet shallow enough that he could still ground himself by touching the muddy bottom of ooze and weed beneath him. In the distant fog: a colossal sky of monoliths and pillars made of slimy green stone, constructed in angles and dimensions so disorienting that Avery was always dizzy, always a little panicked and a little breathless. He would try to escape it, turning and swimming to a shore made of weathered bedrock, but the ground would soften beneath him the closer he swam, sucking him down, pulling him into the abyss, until eventually he woke himself up in a sweat, waking from a world that didn’t exist.
He woke from one of these dreams with an awful feeling of disquiet. The night was an orange smear through the curtains. A compound of fog and light. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with one hand, gripping the sheets beneath him with the other, grounding himself in the real world.
He checked his phone. 3:29 AM. May 11th. He had completely missed Mother’s Day.
Why wasn’t I there? he thought. Why didn’t I at the very least send a text or pick up a card? He knew she wouldn’t mind. She never did, which only made it worse.
After a hesitation or so, he opened her contact thread. Thumb hovering over the keyboard, before typing out:
happy mothers day mom
i’m so sorry i haven’t been answering lately, i haven't been feeling all that well
He paused for a moment.
can i come over?
He instantly turned his phone face-down on his chest. It was like a stone of dread sat in his stomach – the infinite possibilities of her reaction, his own cowardice at not calling, his guilt at forgetting. He breathed through his mouth; his fingers writhed. He tried not to focus on the fact that she was probably asleep by now and wouldn’t reply until morning.
But his phone buzzed immediately. His heart skipped a beat as he flipped it over and read:
You’re always welcome here, honey.
Avery exhaled, closing his eyes and rubbing his face, feeling something like relief wash over him. He typed out a quick reply:
thank you
i love you
see you soon
– 2 –
Avery considered the hour he could save by skating before deciding to just walk.
The air was cold and damp and full of misery, but it felt nice against his skin, which was still sticky with sweat. He walked quickly down the sidewalk, his eyes on the ground to avoid stepping in puddles, occasionally glancing up at the radiant streetlights. A faint smell of earth rose, chanting to his nose like a choir of wet worms.
Avery didn’t have his headphones, but he didn’t mind. He had a song stuck in his head anyway – something about a floor that needs sweeping.
In time, he made it to his mother’s house. He wondered if she’d look different, or if she’d even be happy to see him. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket, but it took him a moment to remember that he didn’t have one that worked. So he knocked.
The door opened. Before he could even apologize, his mother gave him a tight hug. She was thinner than he remembered, her hair more silver, but otherwise unchanged.
That stone in his stomach didn't entirely dissolve, but it most certainly shifted.
“I'm sorry,” he cried into her embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
“I love you so much, Avery. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispered, and he choked back the rest of his tears. “I’m sorry.”
“It's okay. Now come inside before you catch a cold.”
“Okay.”
They sat at the kitchen table, and she poured him a cup of coffee that he would have preferred hot chocolate or even just warm milk but didn’t want to sound like a baby about it.
“So,” she said. “How’s college?”
“College is … fine. I mean, I’m doing okay? Not failing anything,” he said, and he thought of his chemistry grades, which can only be described as catastrophic. He took a sip but decided that it was far too bitter for his sweet tooth, so he set it down, forgot about it. “How … how have you been?”
“You know. A little lonely.”
Avery laughed nervously. “I bet.”
The two of them were still for a moment before she realized. “Oh– I’m so sorry, here, let me take that from you,” and she took the coffee.
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” she said, and she left the room.
Avery looked around him, his mother’s house. It was the same as it had been for as long as he could remember. Come to think of it, it was exactly the same. Same kitchen. Same living room.
Same absence of Avery.
Before he could think any harder on it, she returned with two cups: hot tea, hot milk – hotter than he’d like. “I didn’t know which you’d prefer, so I just made you both.”
“Thanks,” he said, and he took a cup in each hand. “Y’know, if you mix them together, it’s called a ‘London Fog.’”
“Really?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
They laughed together, and she gave him a playful shove.
They sat together for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She told him about her work and he told her about his classes. But he couldn’t manage to bring up Derek. How could he? He didn’t even know what he looked like. He was just a Minecraft player. Were they even friends?
The sky had begun to lighten outside when she asked: “Do you know anybody by the name of Derek?”
Avery froze. His eyes widened a little. His breathing stopped. His body grew rigid. His cheeks reddened from holding his breath, before at last:
“D– Derek?” His voice came out a little higher than intended. He cleared his throat. “Uh … yeah? I mean … maybe? Why?”
“Well about a month ago, a couple guys showed up at my door asking about you. I thought they were with the police or a government charity at first, the way they were dressed. Like that movie with Will Smith in it.”
“Men in Black?”
“Yeah! that’s it. But they just kept asking about you and Derek, you and Derek. I told them I would have known if you were friends with a Derek, and they asked where you lived, when you’re coming home, etcetera etcetera.”
“...and what did you tell them?”
“I told them nothing. I didn’t trust them. They weren’t wearing any official badges or anything that I know of. They just looked like guys. You better not have gotten yourself into any trouble, Avery.”
“No, no, of course not.” He rubbed his forehead. His eyes were clear yet unmoving, staring into the middle distance. “Did they say anything else?”
“No. But they did leave me this.” And she reached into her pocket and placed a small folded note on the table.
Avery hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it.
It was handwritten, a little messy. It read: ‘Tell Avery that Derek misses him.’ And beneath that, in smaller, neater letters: ‘And tell him that we need to talk.’
His tea and milk had gone cold, and he didn’t realize he hadn’t touched either of them, for he suddenly got up and left his mother’s house, his mind racing, without saying goodbye.
– 3 –
Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe it was both. But when he woke in the dream-world again, something compelled him to swim toward the strange city.
He had a feeling that something might happen when he reached it, but he didn't know what. And yet he swam on, through greasy waters and into the fog, where the towering monoliths loomed above him like Cyclopes, and an air of abysmal antiquity rose from the ruins. And at last, in considerable reach, he clawed his way onto a sort of temple made up of many concentric circles of columns. They were all the same height; all slimy and green; all incomprehensibly tall. And engraved in the center, a symbol: three curling parallel vertical lines like tentacles hanging from a straight horizontal one, – a portal – enclosed inside a perfect circle.
From here, you’d think you could see the city in greater detail, but it was as if the buildings became more abstract.
Then suddenly, everything went dark. All except for where he stood.
And emerging from the darkness, like ink diffusing through water, came a figure that Avery could only be lucky to have conjured in his dreams, else he would have lost his sanity entirely: a monster, or perhaps a man resembling a monster, with a pulpy head of tentacles and a grotesque rubber-like body and long draconic wings that occupied far more space than its physical form should allow. Its eyes, or lack thereof, were black and cold and infernal pits that seemed infinitely bottomless, and Avery couldn’t help but stare into them. When it spoke, it spoke telepathically, a great weight upon Avery’s pitiful brain, and its voice was like the sound of a multitude.
“Three truths shall be spoken unto you. If they come to pass within your waking world, will you reason then to believe me?”
The pressure made his vision blur, and he gasped. “...what? Who are you?” Avery asked.
“You may consider me an ally. Three truths shall be spoken unto you. If they–”
“I’m losing my freaking mind. Where did you even come from, you–” Avery started, but his words fell flat. His vision blurred even further, and he couldn’t force his eyes open. “–freak.”
“The question is not where I have come from, but where you have gone. Three truths shall be spoken unto you. If they come to pass within your waking world, will you reason then to believe me?”
Avery sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Very well. The first truth I speak unto you is: the water flows from a single point.”
“...okay,” he said. “Water comes from one spot.”
“The second truth I speak unto you is: the friend is under the floor.”
“...under the floor?”
“The third truth I speak unto you is: without the face, the head shall not exist.”
Avery was confused now, but he could only be confused more. This headache in the opaque air didn’t help much either. In fact, it disturbed him more than the absurd riddles; it gave him a strange sensation of sensations he couldn’t describe. He cupped his forehead in his hands. He wondered if he was dying or if he was already dead. Or maybe…
The mountainous monstrosity before him spoke again: “No further truths shall be granted. If these signs come to pass within your waking world, I shall find you once more. We want to help you.”
“...who’s ‘We?’
“No further truths shall be granted. Now: arise.”
Instantly, the gravity inverted, Avery was thrown backward into the blackness, and then he woke up. Before he could even comprehend the contents of his dream, he was struck with a sort of brain salad of delirium and disorientation. He was so rigid he could not be bent, and dismal fear was printed upon his face. A nosebleed began to leak down his lips but he couldn’t wipe it clean for he was paralyzed. He could only blink and breathe, and even that was a struggle. This was only temporary, for after 15 hours he stood up, walked to the bathroom – albeit clumsily – and began drinking from the sink.
In the background, the phone rang endlessly.