Chapter Text
Derek wakes up to a feeling remniscent of having been run over by a train, mangled entirely, only to somehow live and tell the tale. It is the first thing he notices about himself because there is only darkness.
At first, he assumes he's very much dead—not a very outlandish thing to think, considering… Everything that he remembers.
Gods. His head still fucking hurts. What kind of mean-spirited purgatory is this?
The next thing he makes note of is that he can feel his fingers and toes. He wiggles each of them in a numeric fashion, finding he can move his hands specifically, and feeling around on his face. He wonders if he still looks as pale as he's known himself to be. (Months of indirect sunlight will do that, he supposes.)
There's something around his eyes. Naturally, he moves to take it off.
"Oh—!" an almost kindly voice exclaims in surprise, and the volume of the person as well as the fact they reach out to grasp briefly at his wrist make him flinch away. "Don't do that! Your eyes haven't fully healed yet, Mr. Hutchins."
…
What.
"Wh—" He coughs, nearly hacking out a lung. Wow he feels fucking terrible. "Where… Am I…?"
The mysterious voice hesitates. Before saying,
"You are alive, and you are in the United States Department of Metaphysical Sciences. In the recovery unit of the facility, specifically."
. . .
"What."
Wait—
"Where's Av—"
"Avery is fine," the voice cuts in.
…
Rather than that being comforting (at all), Derek feels suddenly frigid.
"How do you—"
"We have done research on your… Current condition," the voice continues, as though he hadn't said a thing. As though the topic of Avery and if he was okay wasn't at all fucking important.
Derek huffed a breath through his nose, trying to grant this person some patience.
(It was not easy.)
"You'd been found unconscious in—"
"Where's the King," he decides to cut in, now, a bit snappish.
A pause. "Mr. Hutchins—"
"You did say you did research on my condition. Did you not?"
A sigh.
He's starting to think their "kindness" had been more of a performance.
"Yes," they reply. "If you would take the time to listen to what I say, you would know that D. M. S. found you, brought you here, and nursed you back to health, all while garnering information on…" Another pause. "Hastur."
Derek doesn't much care what the King wants to call itself, but thanks for asking. He wants to know if the wretched thing is gone. "But is it dead?"
Another fucking pause.
Damnit.
"Well," the voice begins,
"What do you mean 'well?'"
"In order to properly do our research, we had to—"
Oh for the fucking love of gods everywhere.
"If you would just let me explain, Mr. Hutchins," they sigh, but he hadn't even said anything. Whatever. "The only way we could keep you alive was to keep him alive as well, and—"
"I didn't want to be alive," Derek interrupts flatly. "And I don't. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you risk the entire world's safety for—?"
"We were trying to save you, and we did," they snap, "and, in cause you haven't noticed, with our research, we were able to find a way to temporarily null his powers."
"…Temporarily."
"Yes—"
"And what if he wakes up and one day decides, oh I don't know, today's the day he wants to give a go at destroying the universe again?"
"That's why you're here, Mr. Hutchins. We're working on a fix to make it permanent."
Hm. "Is he still in my mind?"
"Yes, but he is asleep for now. There is a chance he could wake up—" wonderful "—but he has no bearing on our world. He should be able to safely reside in your mind from now on."
"Great," Derek states, flat again. "Because that's something I've always wanted. Some asshole entity sharing my brain."
"It's not ideal," the voice agrees.
Ugh.
"And I have no say over this?"
"If you try to leave or hurt yourself, we will know."
…The fuck does that mean.
"You have a bug imbedded in your neck," the voice explains simply. "Should you do any harm to yourself, it will alert us."
.
.
.
Really.
"Fine. When can I take this blindfold off?"
"Not a blindfold, bandages," they correct. "And in a few months; though, I should let you know your sight was severely damaged after the… Merging. You'll remain blind for the rest of your life."
…
If he's being honest that's the least concerning thing about any of this.
"I'll assume you're keeping me here for the rest of my life, then," he sighs.
…
The "doctor" openly laughs.
"Oh, of course not! We'll be releasing you in about a month, to give your body more time to heal. After that you're free to go."
. . .
"We do recommend coming back to continue research with us, though," they add, because, yeah, of course. Of fucking course. "It would be very valuable information for the rest of humanity to have."
…
Yeah.
Derek sighs.
"Well, considering the fact I very much was prepared to die," he grits out, just a bit bitter. "…I may need some time to think this all over."
"Of course. You have until the end of your stay here."
Great.
*
He tries exactly a number of thrice.
The first, involving him trying to suffocate himself using one of the various cords lying around.
It was his mistake from the beginning to have tried a slow death.
The second attempt, downs some pills that his body immediately coughs back up, because apparently this fucking thing also PREVENTS him from doing anything remotely harmful to his body. His body just somehow KNOWS now not to make decisions for itself like that.
Any further attempt at it results in him nearly hacking up that lung again.
The third attempt kind of just… Comes out of nowhere.
It's a split-second decision kind of thing.
He tries jumping to his death from a window.
He misjudges the distance.
And grants himself another whole month of being locked up in a government facility somewhere.
After that, he can't even go to the bathroom without someone supervising him.
*
It is, apparently, a given that he only infinitely knows everything when the King is active somewhere. He should have assumed that was how it worked, but, here he is.
The King wakes him up in the middle of the night, and simply says, Idiot.
It doesn't sound particularly angry. Just… Annoyed. Like this outcome has only really mildly inconvenienced him for the time being.
Asshole.
Derek does not acknowledge him at all.
Therefore, he spends a few more days in the facility due to raging migraines.
*
Derek has to start talking to the King if he wants to even stand up, so he does.
The King will say nonsense like, You are only delaying the inevitable, and, You cannot keep me trapped with you for long, and you are a fool if you think otherwise, and, I hate you so very astronomically and I wish we we both ceased to exist right now.
This happens quite often. Derek just listens to him, acknowledging and reacting to his complaints at the right time.
It somehow works.
(Derek does not share this aloud, but he knows Hastur knows he shares the same sentiments.)
*
The King has infinite knowledge.
This is a fact.
Derek has a third of that knowledge now.
Because the King apparently thinks it's a good way to "punish" him.
The King holds this over him like it's something Derek wants returned to him.
He does not.
Hastur wakes him in the middle of the night.
Again.
This time it's to tell him,
I know where Avery is right now.
And immediately Derek sits up like he's been burned.
Don't.
He's not here, the entity continues.
Well he should fucking hope so. Good, Derek snaps.
Do you wish he was?
Shut up.
A pause of silence.
Then, I could tell you where he is.
Don't.
Or I could tell him where you—
Don't.
Something like a huff. (Can horrific dangerous entities beyond human understanding huff?) You are no fun.
Too bad. Go find someone else who is, then.
I cannot leave your mind.
Then shut up.
Rude.
You tried to kill my friend.
…
He hadn't meant to say that.
…Is that what we are calling him now?
What does that mean.
My vessel was barely a friend to you.
What—
In the sense you did not know him.
Not until I brought you two together, that is.
And what, you think that's something I should thank you for?
I do not see why I do not deserve a thanks.
.
.
.
Do you genuinely not want to know where he is?
He's probably forgotten about me by now, Derek reasons. He's… Not sure why he's trying to reason with this creature. I don't want to drag him back into this.
You miss him.
…
There is no need for petulant silence, I can see your thoughts as they—
Fuck you.
…
Rude.