Chapter Text
Avery loves Derek Hutchins.
Because of this, it's been days.
But it's cold out.
And it's dark out.
And it's midnight.
And Avery is tired.
It's been days, after
. . .
what should have been the only January 1st that existed in the year 2026.
But it's midnight.
It's New Years again.
And he's tired.
Maybe it hasn't been days. Maybe it's been weeks, months.
Or, what should've been them.
Time… Doesn't pass for him anymore.
He doesn't sleep anymore.
He'll wake up, already at his computer, before midnight. New Year's Eve. Fifteen or so minutes to go. It's always fifteen, or sixteen, or seventeen or eighteen or twenty.
And Derek will be there in front of him. He'll have found him a second time, this time in front of the gates, and Derek will tell him to go collect gold blocks to close up the gates.
Avery will do it sometimes.
Sometimes, he'll argue.
Sometimes, he'll plead with Derek.
Sometimes he'll walk away from the computer and sob and sob and sob and Derek will try to talk to him, and receive no response in chat, and Derek will go through the gates. Concerned for his friend, concerned for the only person he'd ever truly care about until his dying breath—but with the weight of the rest of the world already set upon his shoulders.
It isn't fair. It isn't fair, and it shouldn't be Derek, and Avery hates him.
And Avery loves him.
And Avery will always let him know that.
"I love you," he'll say out loud softly, the same way he'll type it out for Derek to see, simple, slow, short.
Derek is always a little confused, at first. Not necessarily at the words themselves, or the fact it's Avery telling him.
Of course it is.
Of course it is Avery.
Derek knows nothing of the worlds behind the gates, nothing of which is about to transpire for him for endless loops of endless days, yet he knows Avery.
Yet he is confused by the words, because they do imply Avery does love him.
Avery loves a him that doesn't quite exist yet.
Avery loves a him, in general.
That's confusing.
And that's why Avery says it—to make sure Derek's aware, even if it's confusing.
Derek should know.
Because the whole world isn't aware of him, and the whole world won't ever know of him. The whole world doesn't love him.
Avery does.
Doesn't it mean more that Derek is someone else's whole world?
…
Though, that's the thing.
Derek saves the whole world.
But Avery is his whole world, too.
Isn't that a paradox?
And doesn't that mean, in reality, Derek is only sacrificing himself for Avery?
. . .
Maybe that's a delusional series of thoughts.
Avery is delusional.
And it is New Year's Eve.
And it's cold.
And it's dark.
And it's midnight.
And Avery is tired.
And it's been days, weeks, months.
And Avery loves Derek Hutchins.