Chapter Text
Derek stares at the doc. His eyes are burning, and he’s thankful for the dark screen of that stupid game playing in another tab, or he probably would have been on the floor by now. Tears run down his cheeks, but blinking hurts more than his dry eyes. He did it. He got the video out, he saved Avery, he saved everyone. He clicks back into minecraft and smirks, that stupid cocky smirk he knows makes people boil with rage. He finally blinks, his finger hovering over the power button. He knows he has to do this, he knows he doesn’t have a choice, not anymore. Even as something in the back of his mind itches at him, screams at him, he can’t back down now. He sees every possibility, and he knows in every world, he chooses this, but it’s still terrifying. He hopes, prays, to a god he knows is false, that this is painless, or as painless as it can be. And he sees his prayers go unanswered by his newly personal demon. His finger twitches, a drop of sweat falls into his eye, and he moves. His finger goes down once, and it’s blinding.
The pain, fuck, the pain. He can’t describe it. It’s worse, worse than when he saw that stupid king the first time, or even the second time. He tanked that, but he can’t tank this. He's breaking, he can feel his brain flip inside itself in his skull, and each of his organs rotting away, but he’s still alive. Each second is agony, as if he’s experiencing every death in human history at the same time. He feels his eyes melting, and his ribs breaking. His throat feels full of water, and his lungs feel devoid of air. He feels each bone in his body break again and again, before melting and turning to dirt. He feels worms in his ears, and bugs under his skin. He feels his skull flatten, then explode, then get crushed again. But all of this, in the back of his mind, a part of him is.. Enjoying this. No, a part of something is enjoying this, not him. The part he fused with a god, a god he wants nothing more than to take down with him, a god he knows is feeling at least some of this. That part of him is also glad, and that’s all him.
He feels as if his eyes pop like balloons, a black and gold ichor dribbling down his face in place of tears, and he distantly notices as he throws up the same viscus gel. His tongue and throat swell, and his pelvis crushes into the ground like he’s run over by a truck. He feels claw marks all over his skin, burns and boils, hives and peeling all across his flesh as he writhes on the floor. He didn’t realise when his screams turned silent, but as he let out a final feral cry, the world around him turns to yellow dust as he blacks out.
Avery hands shake as he looks at the dark screen. No no no no! He presses the reload button.. Then again. Again and again, he keeps trying, refusing to stop until a sudden visceral sound comes out of his throat like a wounded animal. He wants to kill a god. No, he’s going to kill a god. He’s going to watch that motherfucker die and bleed out in his own domain if he has to. He didn’t realise he was sobbing until his fist slammed into the desk, and the pain brought him back to reality. Then, everything fell out of him. He crashed back in his chair, hitting the floor like a sack of rocks, and he began to scream. No words came out, but he knew his neighbors would be complaining in the morning.. Or tonight, if the cops get called. His lungs feel like they're burning, and he wants nothing more than to rip them out and fix this. He needs to break something, or he’s going to break himself. He grabs a plate, and throws it against the closest wall, broken shards falling off his hands and onto the carpet. He’s half tempted to reach out and grab a handful, squeezing them between his fingers until he bleeds. But.. he knew that’s not what Derlord would have wanted. Even as his emotions swirl and his brain goes a mile a minute, all he can think of is Derlord, begging himself not to forget the stupidly smart, selfless, selfish man who saved him.
He’s got no clue how long he’s sitting there, on the floor, just staring at the stupid porcelain shards, but by the time he’s collected himself enough to crawl over to lay on his bed, the fireworks have already started. Every noise makes him flinch, and he feels overstimulated by everything. He takes a deep breath, once, then twice, then a third time, as he reaches over to his nightstand. He searches blindly before his fingers grip around the soft give of his sugar stress ball. His hands feel itchy, but the stim toys helps. Avery feels his chest flutter painfully as it slows, and he finally feels calm enough to think after.. definitely not a few hours. Nope, he’s definitely more mature than that, and it definitely only took a few minutes to calm down. Nope, the sun definitely doesn’t come up by the time he stops balling like a baby…
Okay, honestly? He would still be in bed, crying into his pillow, if it weren’t for Muffin. Or ‘Chocolate Chip Banana Muffin’, Avery’s very cute, and very hungry, long haired black cat, meowing insistently at him from the open doorway. It’s the only thing that finally gets him out of his, like, third trance from the past 24 hours, the first two being..
Nope, can’t think of that, or he’ll cry again. Avery stands sluggishly, and waddles over to his kitchen. He takes the cat food and just.. dumps it into the bowl, before waddling over to his couch, and sitting down on the middle cushion. He can’t brother to move, or even think beyond what just happened. Derlord.. Derek, sacrificed himself, for Avery. For Avery. Well, not just for Avery, but.. Like, he’s the main guy Derek died for. Or, well, he probably died.. Most likely.. But..
And Avery gets an idea.
He’s going to need to do some research.
For his knight.