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The request forms that Avery had been directed to upon first moving into the DMS have long-since been abandoned. He’s sure that any other permanent residents of the facility – of whom he has seen exactly zero so far – make good use of the formal process of asking for items, but he prefers to go straight to Constance. He sees her every morning anyway, when he drops Derek off for what they’ve both now started referring to as the worst 9-5 in the world, and he quite enjoys seeing her try to rationalise his outlandish requests.
Yes, she’s an awful person. There’s no doubt that Avery hates her, especially when both she and Derek keep the extent of their experiments from him, causing his mind to conjure up frightening images of every possible worst-case scenario. But she’s undeniably an abundant asset right now, with the ability to give Avery anything he wants as long as he pretends not to know that she’s planning something horrible for him. And on a childish, observably naïve level, Avery has faith in his ability to charm women over 50.
After bidding Derek goodbye with a kiss on the hand, he calls her over. “Requests,” he says.
“Naturally,” she smiles. “What is it today?”
“I want a snake plant and access to somewhere I can take Derek on a date.”
“Interesting. I think I can make that happen. I can take you there right now.”
“Now?” Avery asks. “Aren’t you busy?”
“You really should work on your poker face,” she smiles, glancing behind her as a pair of DMS agents lead Derek out of sight. “I know you worry about him. It’s an easy day today. There are plenty of cognitive tests and brain scans planned for this morning that don’t require my input. I can spare half an hour for you.”
“For me?” Avery smiles. “You’re so good to me.”
“I try.”
Giving a mock bow, Avery gestures for Constance to take the lead. She exits the hospital floor and he follows closely behind as they take the elevator upwards. They emerge onto a floor that looks somewhat like an open plan academic building, complete with a ceiling so high that Avery wonders if this level is twice the size of the others, or even bigger.
“This is our largest library,” Constance explains. “It’s accessible to all DMS staff and residents. I’m surprised you haven’t come up here before.”
“I didn’t know it existed.”
“It’s a tricky one to find, I’ll give you that,” she smiles. “The facility is intentionally designed to be confusing and disorienting. But our collection of books is just short of infinite. Come, I have a place in mind.”
She holds out her arm and Avery takes it. Her pantsuit feels expensive to touch, and she doesn’t adjust her walking speed to account for his. As they walk, she continues talking. “I like to come here myself sometimes when I need a change of environment to spark motivation in me.”
“I figured you’re plenty motivated already.”
“So I’ve been told. But wanting to do something and having the capability to do it right now are two very different things.”
“What do you want to do?” Avery asks. And then he holds his breath.
She lets out a chuckle. “Oh, lots of things. But you’re asking what I want to do with Derek, aren’t you?”
“I’ll take any answer you’re willing to give. Nobody tells me anything in here.”
“Not even Derek?”
“No,” Avery says. It’s not exactly a lie. Derek tells him some things, but not enough. He tells Avery whatever he thinks will keep him happily leashed away from curiosity. He returns to the apartment every day with his lips sealed, thinking that he is saving Avery’s heart and only breaking it further. “He said the less I know, the less danger I’m in from you.”
“And do you think you’re in danger from me?” Constance raises an eyebrow.
“I think you certainly have the capability to hurt me right now. But I’m not sure you want to.”
“Interesting. For what it’s worth, I agree with you. Then again,” she laughs. “I could be lying.”
Avery shrugs. “So could I.”
They stop walking after rounding a corner. Avery looks around and sees that this section of the room is designed in such a way that it is almost completely closed off from the rest of the library, creating a strangely angular space where the funnel-positioning of bookshelves mutes any faint sounds from outside.
“This is my hidden gem,” Constance says. “Will this do?”
Avery walks over to the table, absent-mindedly picking up the book in the centre. Possession Mythology and Spirit Transference Around the Victorian Seance Table.
“A little light reading of mine,” Constance joins him and takes the book out of his hands. “Are you curious?”
“Not really,” Avery says. He could probably enjoy a good 20-minute YouTube video essay on the topic whilst he eats his dinner, but whatever conversation Constance is trying to prompt with her ‘accidentally’ misplaced book, he’s not going along with it. He’s going to be the one to get information out of her, and it’s going to make Derek proud. He’s going to prove that he’s capable of handling the matters that everyone else is dealing with in silence, and then maybe they’ll all finally get somewhere.
“Your lack of curiosity is interesting,” Constance continues anyway. “Perhaps that’s why you were suited to be Hastur’s initial vessel.”
“What?”
“It’s just a theory of mine. I can’t even say I’m actively working on it, more that it’s an idea I can’t unstick. Maybe the reason Derek is so unstable and unpredictable is because his brain is still searching for a reason that this all happened to him. But you… I think you’d just accept it. And I think you’d get on with it.”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
“I’m saying you’re far more adaptable than those who would overthink everything that happened to them.”
She speaks of him clinically, in a way that turns Avery’s chest cold. His lungs press against his ribcage and his heart quickens. It’s somewhere between anger and self-hatred, and being so overtly treated as lesser has taken him off guard – probably because he’s only been spending time with Derek, who fills the space with so much love and sincerity that Avery almost forgets how much even he is keeping from him.
His voice is a flinch; an involuntary reaction. “Who’s David, Constance?”
“Derek hasn’t told you?” She raises an eyebrow.
Avery panics. Constance doesn’t know that Derek is bluffing about having information. Has Avery just made his only bargaining chip worthless? He quickly masks his regret and self-hatred as simple insecurity, saying, “He thinks it’d put me in danger to know. Like I said, nobody tells me anything.”
Taking a seat, Constance folds her hands on the table and waits for Avery to join her. “David is my son.”
“You have a son?”
“Had a son. He died.”
Half of Avery lights up like the jackpot at a casino. The other half cannot tear itself away from the image of his own mother’s face.
He rests a hand over Constance’s arm. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Genuinely. No parent should have to go through that.”
“Life is cruel and surprising, Avery,” Constance says. Her eyes are devoid of tears and her voice remains unchanged, and yet she rests her hand over his gently. “But there’s nothing special about David to anyone except for me.”
“Then why did the mention of his name suddenly make you concede on Derek’s demands?”
“Wouldn’t you?” She furrows her eyebrows in sadness and looks him directly in the eye. “When you thought Derek was dead and I mentioned his name, you all but got into that van willingly. Everyone has a soft spot.”
“That’s all it is?”
“That’s all it is,” she says. “And the intention was always for Derek to move in with you anyway. I was mainly just seeing how long it would take for him to ask outright.”
“Seriously?”
“I wanted to know.”
“That’s… really cruel of you,” Avery says. “I’m sorry, but that’s just awful.”
“I know. I go too far sometimes.”
“You’re telling me.”
Constance smiles and stands up. “Thank you for an enlightening conversation,” she says. “I should be getting back now.”
“Go easy on him, will you?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to spoil the mood for your date.”
When Avery gets back to the apartment, he sees that Constance has arranged for the prompt delivery of two sets of dress pants and shirts, and one snake plant.
“Are you 100%, absolutely certain?” Derek’s voice comes from the bedroom. Avery is waiting in the hallway, already dressed and ready. Either Constance or Hastur must have told him about the date in advance, because he wasn’t surprised when he got home to hear that they’d be soon going back out again.
The clothes took him off guard, though.
“I have never, in all my life, been certain of anything more than I am of the fact that I want to see you in fancy date clothes,” Avery smiles. “Humour me for one night. Please?”
“And you won’t laugh?”
“I won’t laugh. I can’t promise no swooning though.”
“Save your judgement until you’ve seen how awkward I look.”
Derek emerges from the bedroom with his eyes turned towards the ground. Even his self-conscious stance and refusal to meet Avery’s gaze don’t take away from how wonderful he looks. His hair looks healthy and full; his smile is soft and genuine. Behind the heavily-tinted glasses, the dark bags around his eyes look like intentional makeup. The shirt that Constance sent over is a perfect fit – it’s linen, with a loose stand collar opened just down to the top of Derek’s chest. Avery’s eyes stay here for a moment and he feels his face flush. He quickly looks down as he walks over to Derek and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his forearms.
“Now it’s perfect,” he says. “You look beautiful.”
Derek raises his hands to hold Avery’s face. “Hastur tried to ruin the surprise this morning by showing me what you’d look like, but I didn’t care. I kept the picture in my mind all day. Looking at you never gets any less pleasant. I could do it forever.”
“Oh, sure, just one-up me with your compliment game,” Avery smiles. “I suppose I’ll have to show my hand early. I got you a present. Well – I asked Constance for something I wanted to give to you. I guess that’s less romantic than if I’d gone out and bought it, right?”
“Fuck her. You’re all I care about.”
Avery leads Derek by the hand back into the living room, taking the snake plant from where he’d hidden it underneath a blanket earlier. It’s only a small thing, with a few wide, firm leaves sticking straight out of the soil in the pot. He holds it out, and Derek takes it.
“It’s a snake plant,” Avery explains. “They don’t need much sunlight to survive, which is great considering we don’t get any. It probably won’t grow any bigger than this because of it, but… it’s a little piece of the outdoors. I thought it might help to have around.”
Derek brings his hand up to one of the leaves and brushes his fingertip over it. He closes his eyes and flattens his palm out, gently feeling his way around the plant without disturbing its structure. His head twitches slightly and his lips purse – a sure sign that he’s trying to discard an unwanted comment from Hastur – but he soon returns to a serene expression, bringing the plant up to his nose.
“If it ever flowers, it’ll smell like vanilla,” Avery says. “Do you like it?”
Setting the pot down on the table, Derek pulls Avery into a hug. “I love it,” he says. “Thank you.”
Avery thankfully remembers the way to the library, bringing along a rucksack that he instructs Derek not to look inside, though he reassures him that he doesn’t actually mind if Hastur shows him. His ID card allows instant access and, when they enter, it’s quiet. He wonders for a moment whether Constance has temporarily restricted the entire area on their behalf, or if people just don’t usually come up here in the evening.
“Wow,” Derek whispers. “They have so many books here.”
“Pick up anything you like.”
“I don’t really read anymore. I think I’d probably prefer audiobooks.”
Avery smiles to himself.
When they reach the little reading nook that Constance had shown him earlier, Avery sees that the table is now fitted with a tablecloth, on top of which are two unlit taper candles in ornate, gold candlesticks and a box of matches.
“Full disclosure,” Avery says, gesturing to the setup. “I had no idea about this part. This is all Constance.”
“She’s a baffling woman.”
“Isn’t she just? Anyway – take a seat.”
Avery pulls out Derek’s chair for him and, when he sits, he leans down to give him a kiss on the cheek before joining him. He opens the rucksack and takes out a container of fresh-baked cookies and a book.
“I want to read to you,” he says. “If that’s okay.”
Derek’s eyebrows soften and his face melts almost into tears. He looks so grateful. “Really?” He asks.
“Yeah. My mom used to read Mary Oliver poems to me when I was little and there’s one I want to… okay, I’m not gonna talk myself out of this. I’m already embarrassed. Are you sure you don’t mind? It might be a bit cringe, now I think abou–”
Avery wipes his palms on his trousers and Derek immediately reaches for his hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.
“There’s nothing I want more. Please.”
“Thank you,” Avery whispers. He still feels nervous, but it’s more like the butterflies of a first date than the fear of trying to justify a rational choice to someone who has already decided to misinterpret it. Derek smiles and rests his head the table, making a pillow with his hands.
The page is already dog-eared. Over the top of the book, Avery can see Derek close his eyes. He uses one of the matches to light both candles anyway.
“The Waterfall,” he says. “By Mary Oliver.
For all they said,
I could not see the waterfall
until I came and saw the water falling,
its lace legs and its womanly arms sheeting down,
while something howled like thunder,
over the rocks,
all day and all night –
unspooling
like ribbons made of snow
or god’s white hair.
At any distance
it fell without a break or seam, and slowly, a simple
preponderance –
a fall of flowers – and truly it seemed
surprised by the unexpected kindness of the air and
light-hearted to be
flying at last.
Gravity is a fact everybody
knows about.
It is always underfoot,
like a summons,
gravel-backed and mossy,
in every beetled basin –
and imagination –
that striver,
that third eye –
can do a lot but
hardly everything. The white, scrolled
wings of the tumbling water
I never could have
imagined. And maybe there will be,
after all,
some slack and perfectly balanced
blind and rough peace, finally,
in the deep and green and utterly motionless pools after all that
falling?”
He finishes with the exact same tone his mother always used. Falling spoken like allthatfalling, a pensive and sympathetic breath of pure prayer. He closes the book and sees that Derek is crying.
“I love you,” Derek whispers. “I love you so much, Avery.”
“I love you too,” Avery grasps his hand. “I always will, I know it.”
Derek pauses for a moment, sitting up straight. He speaks plainly, yet sadly. “Hastur says you can't know it. He said there’s no certainty around anyone’s actions when it comes to a conscious and consistent choice like love. Anyone can wake up and choose not to love someone, no matter how much time has passed.”
Avery taps on Derek’s forehead. “Fuck off, idiot,” he says. “I’m trying to have a moment with my boyfriend, who I will love forever and ever and ever.”
At this, Derek smiles and laughs a little. Avery picks up one of the cookies and holds it out for Derek to take a bite.
“Oh my god. Avery. Avery. This is your finest work.”
“There’s another batch at home.”
“Home,” Derek murmurs. “I like that.”
“I like it too,” Avery talks whilst Derek eats. He likes seeing him well fed. “I’ve never doubted whether it’s worth it, you know. Getting to fall asleep next to you makes it all worth it.”
“I sleep better next to you.”
“I know you do. It makes me feel so proud. It’s like – at least I’m doing something right in this hellhole.”
“You’d still be right to leave if you wanted,” Derek says. “I know you’ve made your choice, but it doesn’t change that it’s an unfair one. You don’t have to be the most moral person in any situation. You can be self-serving.”
“There’s no universe where leaving you would ever morally be right or personally feel right. Even if I’m being completely selfish, I want to stay with you, Derek. You make the world make sense.”
“It only doesn’t make sense because of what we went through together. If your mind was wiped and you forgot it all–”
“I’d find you. I’d know something was missing and I’d find you. I can never live my life with my eyes closed again. Not now my soul knows you exist.”
Avery stands up and offers his hand for Derek to join him. He leads him over to one of the bookshelves blocking this section off from the larger portion of the room. “This is like the library where we met,” he says.
“I’m sure Constance did that on purpose,” Derek whispers. He gestures upwards with his eyes, indicating to Avery that Hastur is overtly present in his head. “But I don’t care. You’re sweet.”
“And you’re beautiful,” Avery pulls Derek close. He puts one hand on the small of Derek’s back and uses the other to interlace their fingers. Resting his head against Derek’s chest, he begins to sway from side to side in an awkward half-dance.
Derek presses a kiss against their intertwined hands, right against Avery’s knuckles. He’s a lot more stable on his feet than Avery had been anticipating, and the way he moves seems like he has at least some knowledge of how to dance. He guides Avery’s free hand to his shoulder and moves his own to Avery’s hip, gently pulling them into a waltz.
There’s no music, but it doesn’t matter. Avery hums a little tune, keeping his feet in time with Derek’s as they sway – actually somewhat gracefully – across the small room. Round and round in circles without a destination or the end of a song waiting for them. Avery could live in this feeling – the softness of Derek’s linen shirt whenever he lowers his head to touch his cheek against the fabric, the warmth of his strong hand on Avery’s hip. The knowledge that the night is young and the morning far away. The thought of the snake plant growing in the windowless apartment. The surety of the present moment against everything else.
He’ll tell Derek what he learned from Constance later. He doesn’t want to ruin his peace by making him worry.
Avery feels selfishly good that he, however briefly, gets to kindly shelter Derek from the truth.