"Avery." The voice is soft, and oh, Avery will never get tired of that voice. d3rlord3 - Derek, it's Derek - looks down at him, and Avery can't see his eyes because of his helmet but there's a hand on his wrist, their fingers wrapped around the other's arm, and he would stay here forever.
Content to be under his knight's gaze.
"What's in your inventory?" It's a strange question but Avery doesn't care, not if he gets to stay here. Not if Derek isn't fighting him anymore on staying, not if he can live and breathe and die right next to him.
So he opens up the inventory manager and he looks down at it and there's a split second where he wonders what Derek needs before the hand on his arm is gone and his fingers are slipping off of plated gold armor and he's falling falling falling-
Avery jerks awake. His whole body is cold, the warm blankets around him doing nothing to fix the chill. His face feels stiff, his eyes puffy from crying last night, dried tear tracks tracing sticky lines down his face.
Derek is dead, he reminds himself sternly, but the pit in his stomach is still there, and the gnawing on his heart is still there, and he still aches.
He's dead, and I couldn't save him.
It's been two weeks since Avery fell from that platform.
Two weeks of crying himself to sleep over someone he didn't even know but can't help but feel close to, two weeks of living with this horrible hurt in his body that he can't get rid of.
Two weeks since he saw Derek's final message and sat there, body convulsing with silent sobs, and felt so fucking helpless.
It's January 13, and Avery has barely made it out of bed each day.
It doesn't take quite as long today. The dream wasn't as bad as it has been. Sometimes it taunts him with these scenes of him and Derek sitting in that library for hours. That's not what happened. He didn't get more than a few precious moments with him there. But the dreams don't care.
Those ones hurt the most. The what if. The wonder of what might have happened.
Once, it even showed Derek hugging him on that floating platform. Asking if he was really staying in that voice of his that made Avery melt inside. Holding him, pulling him forward. Time would stop and they would be safe and Avery could pretend this was real.
He didn't leave his bed at all that day.
Today, though, today Avery drags himself out of bed. Pulls on a clean shirt - a victory in and of itself - and moves to the kitchen to refill his water. Grabs a granola bar from the pantry.
He's not hungry. He hasn't been hungry in two weeks, though, so he eats the bar numbly and drinks water and doesn't think.
He should shower today, he tells himself. He thought about doing that yesterday, though.
There's a knock on his door as he's polishing off the granola bar. Avery hesitates. Why would someone be visiting him? He doesn't have many friends - or any, really - and his family doesn't live in this state. Maybe his neighbor?
His body moves almost in slow motion, it feels like, his legs dragging and his brain wandering. Trying not to think about that.
It's someone with tan skin and dark curly hair, glasses slightly askew on his forehead. Someone whose tall and really handsome, actually, which is a thought Avery doesn't have a lot. Someone whose brown eyes widen when they see him, see the state he's in, and oh.
Avery winces. He probably does look horrible.
But the stranger doesn't look confused or concerned. Their expression looks… happy?
"Avery?" The stranger breathes and that voice-
Oh. Oh oh no it's not- this is a trick, there's no way, he- he died, there's no-
"Derek?" Avery says, and his voice is scratchy from disuse but he doesn't-he doesn't care.
The stranger just nods and Avery throws his arms around him and sobs. Vaguely, he feels Derek's arms around his waist, holding him. He doesn't care that he's messing up Derek's shirt or that this is probably pathetic, he just.
"I thought you were dead," He manages to say, and the pure fear and sadness and loneliness bleeds through in his voice, and Derek is looking at him and holding him and one hand comes up to cup his face and Avery leans into it.
Needs to make sure he's real.
"I… don't know how I'm not, if I'm honest. But I am, and I knew you saw my last message, and I… I had to come find you." Derek's voice is even better when Avery can see his face and touch him and a fresh wave of tears washes over him.
He can't tear his eyes away from Derek, though.
"It's you." He says, and he sees the recognition light up in the other man's eyes. "Me." Derek says softly, and a laugh bubbles up in Avery's chest. "I found you." Derek says, taking his line, and Avery wants to cry and laugh and kiss him.
"That you did." Avery says, and he buries his face in Derek's shoulder again. The hand on his face goes back down to his waist and the grip on him tightens.
It's real it's real he's here he's here-
Derek pulls him back for a second, looking at his face. Avery suddenly feels gross and ugly and the two weeks of laying in bed feels like a second skin. Derek brushes one of the smaller locs that's fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear and Avery can't suppress the small shudder that goes through him.
He hasn't been touched or held in so long.
"You're so pretty," Derek says, and Avery's face feels hot. "No, I'm not," He says, looking somewhere over Derek's shoulder, avoiding his eyes.
"Hmm. Feel like after all this you would remember that I know everything." That forces a laugh out of Avery, but the small glance he spares the man holding him reveals a genuine smile on Derek's face.
He feels so warm. Everything from these past few weeks feels so distant, and far off and Derek is here. He's here! And he's holding Avery just like he's wanted him to.
When Derek leans in, hand coming back up to swipe the tears under his eye, Avery's breath hitches. He leans in, too, and it's such a soft kiss. So incredibly soft.
He pulls back again and breathes, face so embarrassingly warm and Derek looking at him with more adoration and love than he's ever seen. More than he deserves, too.
"You're so perfect," Derek says, and then he's tugging Avery close again and crashing their lips together and-
Avery sits up in his bed, chest heaving with breath. He's panting, almost, which is kind of embarrassing. It's not like they did anything but kiss.
The body next to him rolls over and reaches for him. When Avery doesn't reach back, Derek sits up and looks at him.
The question is so simple and six months ago Avery would've laughed. Is he okay. Of course he's okay! He feels like a failure and his best friend he never met and is maybe in love with died and it's his fault, but of course he's okay!
"Sorry, just…" "Bad dream?" Avery nods, wiping away the tears he can still feel on his face. "Better, though, at the end. Was about when we first met for real."
Derek clicks his tongue in acknowledgement, wraps his arms all the way around his boyfriend, and starts kissing up and down his neck and shoulder. "It's okay," He whispers against warm skin between kisses.
"I love you," He whispers, pressing another kiss to his collarbone.
Avery sags into his grip and relaxes. "I love you, too."
They fall asleep the same way they have for the past six months: tangled in each other.
