Chapter Text
You Died.
The words burned themselves into the back of his retinas; at this rate, he could never look away. How could he ever look away? In the faintly red-tinted screen, he could still see the remnants of some platform in some world beyond his reach. A world where he could be happy by Derek’s side.
Curses scratched from the back of his throat. He should have stayed. He should have been smarter, stronger, better–But he wasn’t. He never was, was he? Always striving to be the best version of himself, it's so tiring to fail at every turn. And then, there he was sitting, locked before his screen as his last chance of a friend drifted off into oblivion.
“10!” Lights flashed across his cheek. Right, it was New Year's.
“9!” He took a breath and tested the motion in his hands.
“8!” He lifted a hand up and reached for the metal edge of the laptop. It burned against his touch, but he didn’t flinch.
“7!” The computer shut with a slam. The red glow of that doomed screen was gone. But in its place, his eyes remained locked on the plain gray wall in front of him as various colors echoed from the all-too-cheerful world outside.
“6!” His throat felt so dry. How long had it been since he last drank water? How long had it been since he did anything other than look at that stupid screen?
“5!” His senses reawakened, and he was reminded. “I’m alive.”
“4!” The thought passed through his body, sending shivers down his nerves and effectively reawakening them in the process.
“3!” He needed to piss. Bad. His stomach hurt; his head hurt–hell–it all hurt.
“2!”
Please. Stop. He was far from ready for a new year. Not after that. He couldn’t end his year with that–
“1!”
Please.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”
It sounded like thunder. Explosions of light flashed, illuminating his room in waves of green, red, and
yellow.
God, he hated that color; he knew it would forever haunt him. Every faint glow, smudge of paint, or summer day would just serve as a reminder of those gates, those worlds, and those stupid eyes. Eyes that stared over him as he tried, really tried to fight. He set his head on his hands. The year was over. His only glimpse of a friend was dead. And the world was alight. His eyes drifted up and lingered on the bright world beyond his window. The sounds of cheering and laughter mocked him, and he wondered if Derek had lived long enough to see it too.
The thought sent him reeling, and all at once everything was too much. Anger, rage, burning rose from that hollow in his chest and exploded into the world around him. His body thrashed without thought until his room resembled something closer to the after-effects of a hurricane.
Papers chucked. Pencils scattered. Pillows thrown. And that laptop–that stupid fucking laptop lay smashed on the floor.
The bits of silver metal and black glass glistened up at him, and in an instant, his breath returned. His eyes widened, and he fell to his knees.
“No. no. no. no.” He whimpered as his hands dragged all the pieces back toward him. The main chunk of the laptop was still held together by some hope, but it was far beyond use. Not without serious repairs. Was it even worth it for something he had found in a storage locker? No. No. Probably not. But he was so happy when he found it. He was even happier to find Minecraft already installed. That game–that lifeline of his that he had carried through his youth and would never let go, no matter the pleading of his family. His family, who had been the reason for needing a new laptop in the first place–
He shook the thoughts from his mind and focused on finding a box to put the laptop in for the time being. He had to have something somewhere, right? He scanned the room, and the weight of the last 15 hours pushed deeper inside him. His head still hurt, his body still ached, and he still needed to piss. That could come first. He pushed off the ground with a grunt and stumbled his way to the bathroom.
He turned the faucet and let the cool water flow over his hands. With a couple of splashes onto his face, he reminded himself that he was indeed alive. But as his eyes grazed over the mirror, he froze. He dared not recognize the man who stared back at him. They shared the same brown curls, the same brown eyes near black, and the same freckles and moles. But they could not be the same. His cheeks were stained with streaks of tears, though Avery hadn’t even felt any tears. Although it was true that the man’s bloodshot eyes paired with his deep-purple under-eyes made him look like some half-crazed zombie, which Avery could relate to in feeling. But they couldn’t be the same–he felt nothing like that 20-something year old reflected in the glass. He was still 15, sitting in the corner of his bedroom, hiding secrets in a game he’d be addicted to till the end of his days. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him.
“You are real.” The words hit like daggers to his chest. God, how did Derek know how much he craved those words? How did he know everything? Well, that was obvious. But how did he do that? That special way of taking everything he knew and mushing it into a beautifully well-calculated existence. Hell, if he had infinite knowledge he’d still find some way to get distracted and screw every decision up. But Derek…he took all he had and not only lived but lived better than anyone else could have done then. God, he was horrible at words. If Derek were here, he’d know what Avery meant to say. He’d be able to pick through every fracture and failure in Avery’s mind, piece them together, and produce some poetry devoid of judgement or condensation–no, that’s not the right word. Condescending-ness? Avery shook his head. He was too tired for all this.
He tore his eyes from the mirror and stepped back into his room. The remnants of the laptop still sat glaring up at him from the floor. He’d find a box eventually, pick up all the straggling pieces, and clean up all of the mess. But for now, all he wanted was the comfort of his bed. So, he slipped into those covers, unknowing of the tomb they’d become, and drifted off to the sounds of a joy he’d never be able to touch.
In the darkness, he dreamt of a knight with gold-plated armor and a flowing red cape. The knight held out his hand and, though he could not see the man’s face, he knew the knight was smiling.
"You're not a very hard guy to catch, you know."
He was at a loss for words. They were in some library, he had fallen, but all that didn’t matter then. His eyes were focused solely on the man he had been chasing for the last 14–almost 15 hours.
"Avery." The man’s voice was smooth, deep, like something he could fall asleep to. He liked his name on the other man’s tongue. Something in the way the knight spoke it struck some deep chord within his soul. Finally, some words escaped him.
“It’s you.” He breathed. The words came like light wisps in the air and left his mouth hanging in wonder as they left.
“Me.” The man replied.
A grin found its way onto his awestruck face. “I found you.”
“That you did.”
“Oh my god, I found you. I was beginning to think I’d never find you.” The excitement reached his eyes then. And all he could do was resist the urge to reach out and know if the man opposite him would stay solid to touch or if all that gold and red were simply some trick of the mind, apparent after 15 hours of unbroken staring at a screen in the dark.
“What can I–”
The knight’s voice halted short as it all clicked to black. Like some switch had suddenly been flipped, there was only darkness and darkness evermore. But this was too early. Avery pushed back against his mind, they had talked longer together, they were supposed to have more time together. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t fair.
“This isn’t about fairness, Avery.”
He remembered that voice. Rough and cold, the result of vibrations echoing through a broken man’s chest until they sharpened to daggers shooting out into the world, and into Avery’s heart.
“What you should be doing is going outside, not wasting away behind some screen demanding to be treated the same as your sister.” The man looked down at his son who clung to the remains of some broken device in his arms. “You know what’s not fair?”
The man paused, allowing some doubt to sink in. And it sunk in, deep. It burrowed into Avery’s chest and he found he couldn’t look away from his father’s face no matter how much he wished he could. His father noticed the panic in Avery’s eyes and went on, his tone crafted for intended harm.
“Being stuck with a waste of a son like you.”
I’m sorry. Avery wanted to cry. I’m sorry. I can be better. I’ll do better. But the words stayed lodged in his throat as he clutched his laptop closer to his chest. He just wanted to go back–back to some world without this family, where he could spend hours doing whatever he liked, however he liked, with whoever he liked. Whether that meant playing Skywars or exploring random worlds, he loved every second away from all the insults and demands.
“All you do is laze around. Never grateful, never trying. Why can’t you be more like Mari? Don’t you know she graduated at the top of her class? While you’re here crying over some game! That’s what’s not fair. Not your parents caring about you, not us stepping in to try and save you. So, don’t talk to me about what’s fair. You should be grateful we’re not treating you fairly.”
“I’m sorry.”
His father began to walk backwards. With each step something in his character shifted: messy gray hair rounded out into sloped gold metal, a simple t-shirt stretched and smoothed into gold armor with a red cape stretching out further behind him. He froze and Avery knew it was the knight. His favorite knight.
They were on that platform again. Yellow eyes staring from all sides down at them. But his eyes were focused on D3rlord3.
“Derek–” He began, the words hitched in his throat. And he realized he was still crouching, his arms stuck wrapped around the phantom of a crushed laptop. This wasn’t how it went. None of this was how it was supposed to go. The Knight didn’t move, the eyes just stared, and then there was no ground any longer. With a cry, he fell. His knight was lost again.
—
Avery woke up screaming, one hand clutched over his own chest as the other pawed frantically at the sheets. He was searching for something to anchor himself too, something to remind him he was indeed still alive.
“You are real.”
He took a breath in, allowing the oxygen to spread across his body.
“You are special.”
He shut his eyes and felt the sunlight melt into his skin. The warmth did something to ease that tightness in his chest.
“Remember who you are.”