Work Text:
“How do you… Ah, right.”
He flipped the page, fingers skimming over the paper.
Apple, carrot, spinach, broccoli flower.
Mince them into small cubes and mix.
If it becomes too thick, add orange juice.
…
Mandarin juice counts, right?
He hummed a random tune, foot tapping softly on the ground to the rhythm. He balanced the tip of the knife he had on his finger, absentmindedly moving his hand side to side to make it sway. With his other hand, he closed the cookbook and shoved it back to the shelf where they kept their recipes. Completely useless piece of furniture if you were to ask him, but someone had insisted that they had to have one.
To make it feel like ‘home,’ they said.
The reminder of those words made him chuckle to himself. A shelf was something that defined a home? Interesting logic.
For him it was…
What did the step say? Mince the apples?
…safety. The feeling of security although a storm was raging outside. A fig tree under which one could sit, stare at the shadows on the ground and forget about daily struggles.
Carrots next, he presumed?
It was the feeling of something being his and theirs only. A space shared and given with no remorse or complaint. Walls which he knew so well he could recall every crack they had.
Spinach. He didn’t need to cut that. It was just leaves really.
The feeling that reminded him of everything that was beautiful and bountiful. From colored patterns on linen shirts to mud stains on shorts. From the quickest and precise motions to slow, lazy movements in hazy mornings. It reminded him of waking up and staring at white sheets covered in golden rays of sunshine which passed through a translucent body of gentleness and warmth. Something akin to a timid smile and silly dreams.
Home. Those things were quite similar to it, weren’t they?
Did… they have a mixer somewhere?
It was strange how much he would have given away to maintain this place of reassurance and companionship. Safe to say they had already pushed through quite a story to have enough for the rest of their lives. The fate that was forced upon them hadn't been in any way pleasant, no matter how good of a hand they had been dealt. However, in his humble opinion, they managed to wiggle their way to a subjective victory despite all the hiccups.
That didn’t mean everything was perfect, of course.
He himself was still vulnerable to many triggers, his manoeuvres to dodge and avoid them undependable, working only in certain conditions. Things that seemingly were of no importance kept on making him waver and falter, him assessing them as if they were a hidden threat.
But that was only sometimes.
He counted that as a genuine victory.
Most importantly though, he was happy to have a place to call home, a sweet boy to accompany him nonstop and a chapter in his life that was officially closed.
He put the ingredients into the mixer, tightly pressing on the top as the machine started whirling.
There was literally nothing else to do. What remained was his recovery and Avery's insatiable need to keep filling their world with buildings.
And honestly, that sounded quite fine.
Compared to the rush of their life before and adventures they had gone through, this truly was a preferable scenario.
Although…
“I'm home!” a shout could be heard from the hallway.
“Welcome back!” He shouted out, hoping his voice could make it over the sound of the mixer.
It stopped spinning a second later, green liquid painting its inner walls. He took the lid off and dipped his finger in before tasting the smoothie.
His face scrunched slightly.
It wasn't… horrendous? Maybe a little?
Fuck, it was probably the apple. It was slightly disgusting when he tried it.
Yeah… disgusting.
…
Was he…?
…
No, nothing was…
…
“Hi, Der! Whatcha doing?"A hand sneaked around his waist and a gentle weight appeared on his shoulder, “Or should I say cooking?”
His back felt stiff, but he tried to relax in Avery's hold.
“I've uhh…” his throat felt unusually croaky, “I’ve tried to make a smoothie. It uh- didn't really work out…”
“Didn't work out? I'll be the judge of that,” Avery immediately responded with a laugh, “Give me a spoonful, c’mon.”
D3rlord chuckled at that and started searching the counter for the cutlery. His eye shifted over various items, barely registering them. He lifted his arm to press it against the one Avery had sneaked around his waist. His other hand skimmed over one of the drawers and his brain stuttered temporarily.
He… Which drawer held the cutlery again?
He huffed out, annoyed a tad. He pulled the closest one to him open, checking what was inside. There was… silver? D3rlord wasn’t sure, all he could see was a blur.
Which was… weird?
Why was he… oh.
He didn’t know when but Avery changed his position. His head was still laying on his shoulder, pleasant warmth spreading where their bodies touched, however Avery’s arms shifted. They were lightly bracketing his chest, not trapping, just gently resting there. A palm had been placed over his heart, tapping out a slow tempo that didn’t match his thundering heartbeat.
Avery was additionally humming, perhaps a song or something like that. D3rlord couldn’t focus enough to decode exactly what it was.
He stepped out of the hold a little and braced himself on the counter, knuckles white with how tightly he was gripping it.
The entire world around him was blurry except for a sole focal point. He could feel how his body locked up over the course of a minute. He attempted to man his limbs to do something, anything really, but all he could was feel their numbness.
His mind was trying to wrap around what was going on. It made no sense to him. He was just standing, preparing a drink and then suddenly…
Had he encountered a trigger?
It wasn’t like he was panicking because of it, not quite. When he was panicking his breathing was a staccato mess. He would be desperately searching for an escape or a hidey-hole. His mind usually did loops when faced with an unexplainable dawn of anxiety, however this time he could still register some things, so he wasn't that far gone.
There was always this sense of urgency and danger when a panic attack was on the horizon. Yet he felt none of that.
Avery was speaking for sure, the counter was cold under his fingers, his clothes were sticking to his skin due to the slight sweat he was starting to sport and he-
He could taste apples on his tongue.
God, they were- vile.
“I-I need to stand down- C-can you?” he rumbled while trying to lower himself from the counter. With no hesitance, Avery moved to stand by his side, slowly guiding him to the kitchen tiles.
Once D3rlord was seated on the floor, he fumbled with his helmet and pulled it off. He let it roll off his hand and clatter against the ground, not particularly caring about the sound it made since it was already dampened in his ears.
He suddenly felt strangely exhausted and tense, as if he had been running from something that was constantly chasing. He tried to rub his eye to get rid of a dull ache that appeared behind it, but to no avail it didn't work.
Instead, he slammed the back of his head against the kitchen shelves in frustration, cursing quietly as he felt a slight pang of pain.
Almost right after that stupid decision of his, a hand sneaked onto the sore spot, massaging it carefully. Through a lidded eye, D3rlord glanced sideways at Avery who arranged himself by his side, pressed against his shoulder.
He tried to flash a reassuring smile, but all he could muster was a crooked grimace.
“You aren't fooling me,” Avery commented with no real heat behind those words. He shook his head a little, “What’s going on, hon?”
While a plethora of responses appeared in his mind, his mouth didn't seem to cooperate. He could feel how his teeth scraped against each other while his throat refused to swallow his spit.
Instinctively he curled into himself, hugging his knees tightly and placing his head on his arms. From above them, he tried to keep his sight straight. He could see the table, the chairs around it, the ugly red carpet Avery picked out to lay on the ground. Why could he register them?
Normally when he was panicking his logical thinking was gone. His thoughts were a jumble of half finished prayers and desperate mantras while his body remained in a strict lockup.
This time, something wasn't adding up.
His body was tense and uncoordinated, so were any attempts at movement, but his mind remained the same. It remained sane.
It was still working. It knew that it was spiralling, it knew his reaction was not appropriate to whatever had triggered him, it knew he was experiencing many symptoms of a panic attack, it knew it should have stopped thinking and be turned off by now.
But it wasn't.
It just kept on going, observing, recognising and analysing.
“Hey, you there?” Oh right. Avery was there.
D3rlord's eye briefly landed on his partner before returning back to the very interesting table in front of him that his brain decided was worth looking at.
Was he there? He didn't really feel like it.
He shook his head no, a bit of shame creeping into his veins as he realised he was in no state to answer such simple questions verbally.
Avery didn't seem to mind, remaining stoic in his behaviour as always in these situations. Cautiously, he placed one arm across D3rlord's shoulders and brought him closer. Immediately, the man let out a relieved sigh and relaxed slightly into the hold.
“Let's play a game then, eh?” Avery said, his voice cheery and uplifting as if they weren't sitting on a dirty kitchen floor willing away a panic attack, “Wasssss it something I said?”
Avery's fingers danced deftly across his bicep, tapping out random rhythms. The man was even bobbing his head from side to side, like he was listening to a song instead of waiting for an answer.
In general, Avery made it seem like what they were doing was nothing out of the ordinary. Just as if this was a normal afternoon for them.
He always made D3rlord feel like that. As if everything about him was normal.
He shook his head no once again. He would've known if it was Avery's words that had triggered him.
“Hm. Was it… something that I did?” He questioned, rubbing his fingers against his chin, poorly trying to imitate Sherlock Holmes.
D3rlord shook his head no and hesitantly pointed at himself. Avery quickly took in that gesture, brows furrowing.
“Something you did?”
Yes, D3rlord wanted to reply, but he could only afford a small nod.
“Something in the kitchen?” Avery looked around, no doubt searching for anything that could stand out.
D3rlord huffed out quietly, rolling his eye and pointing his finger at the counter above.
On that cue, Avery let go of D3rlord and stood up swiftly, rummaging through what was left on the counter.
“We've got… knives, the mixer and this smoothie you were talking about. Actually, let me grab a taste-”
D3rlord only managed to lift his scrutinizing gaze before he saw Avery drinking the liquid straight from the mixer's compartment. And honestly, even his boyfriend's relishing in the smoothie didn't last long because just two seconds later he was leaning over the sink, coughing out what he had drunk. He stayed with his head down the drain for another half a minute, hawking a couple more times for good measure.
Next, he straightened his posture, wiping away at his mouth with disgust. Turning on his heel, he faced D3rlord with a proud smile and a thumbs up.
“That was the most horrendous thing you've ever made,” he voiced with an uplifting pitch, “I think we are both traumatised by that,” he added with a chuckle.
D3rlord rolled his eye again and mumbled a non-committal ‘I told you so’ in response.
He returned to staring at the table while Avery rearranged himself back to his spot on the floor.
“Sooo… other than the fact that it was terrible, what was it about the smoothie?” He continued his discourse, looking at D3rlord with all his attention.
“It wasn't about the smoothie really…” D3rlord whispered lowly and closed his eye as an ache flared behind it, “The apples though… they just seemed…”
“In-ripe…?” Avery finished when D3rlord took too long to find the correct word.
“No, and I think you mean unripe,” he commented with a doused laughter before his voice once again turned solemn, “Disgusting, is the better word.”
“Disgus…?” Avery trailed off, confusion clear on his face, “They weren't that b-... Do you have any bad experiences with apples?”
The sudden switch in the topic threw D3rlord slightly off, nevertheless he still dutifully shifted through his memories to find an answer.
He couldn't remember any instances of more memorable encounters with apples. Once or twice they dropped on his head while cutting trees as if he was a new Newton, but that wasn't anything off-putting.
There might have been a time where he had a mini fridge somewhere. And he would reach into its depths and pull out a two week old apple. Its skin a matte and dull surface. It would be lacking in taste and juices. Nevertheless that void would fill him, deferring his eventual starvation, and later, suicid-
What.
D3rlord's eye snapped open. He was still on the kitchen floor, Avery by his side.
“Der?” It felt so weird to hear his voice.
“I think I do,” D3rlord quickly mumbled, but after a moment he reconsidered his words, “I think I will.”
“Will… what?” Avery asked unsurely, shuffling to sit cross-legged in front of his partner, blocking the view of the table, “Speak to me, dear.”
D3rlord carefully measured Avery's face. It was open, honest even. A smile present that wasn't condescending nor pressuring. It was just there for support, to remind him that there was light in the darkness, to remind him that they had been in a predicament like this before and they had come out on top.
Honestly, he shouldn't have used ‘just’ in that sentence, because that smile was more important than anything else.
“Sorry,” D3rlord said after a minute of silence, rubbing his eye to check if there were any tears there. There weren't, “My mind says in the future there might be-... -instances of me having some bad connections with apples. Nothing more,” he huffed out, feeling ridiculous by even stating such things.
“I- damn,” Avery scratched the back of his head, definitely perplexed, “None of the books mention anything about trauma from beyond time and space, heh…”
D3rlord chuckled delicately with him, before an awkward silence settled in the room.
His back started hurting from being pressed against the shelves and his legs became numb from being bended for so long. He stretched them forward, laying them on both sides of Avery who kept staring at him with a hesitant smile. The man lifted his hand to place it against one of D3rlord's shins, running his hand over it gently.
“A problem for today-us or tomorrow-us?” Avery inquired, no real pressure present in his tone.
D3rlord genuinely laughed at that – knowing they had more than a day to deal with his problems was still a foreign concept in their hectic life.
“Tomorrow, please,” he shuffled to sit on his knees, right in front of Avery. He picked up his helmet from the ground, pulling it on his head halfway. It covered his eye, but his mouth remained unobstructed, “Thank you, Avery.”
Aiming blindly, he leaned forward and his lips met a smooth expanse of skin. The other man only laughed airily, his giggles could be felt where D3rlord's mouth caressed his neck.
“Alright, alright,” Avery hid him in another tight embrace, “Just don't thank me anymore, will you? This is free of charge service.”
***
“Right! So, I’ve got the book!”
Avery proudly produced a red notebook from his inventory, a sloppy ‘D3rlord’s mess’ written on its cover.
They were walking alongside the dock Avery had built many months ago – a place where they had first met.
He could vividly remember how they used to message each other back in the day. Him taking his sweet time to finally work up the courage to properly talk after thousands of texts exchanged. He knew Avery kept most if not all the mediums they used somewhere. Hidden in shulker boxes, stored in countless chests. With no doubt it was a nice memorial, keeping all of them safe and sound.
However, he wouldn’t say he missed those times.
It was much easier to be able to talk to someone normally. See how they moved, expressed themselves. Laughed or blushed. It was incredible to be able to touch someone after thinking for so long there would be no one who could comfort him.
And he got especially lucky.
Because he was awarded with a bubbly mess of neverending yapping and energy. ADHD incarnate. Though he would never call Avery that. At least not straight to his face.
Returning back to his previous musings, it was a breath of fresh air to be able to live with someone. Share adventures and journeys together. Passions too.
While he always considered himself an engineer of some kind – who just happened to have a knack for puzzles and wacky poetry – he could have never anticipated to be standing side by side with a friend and a builder.
And, that’s right, he would call Avery a builder.
As much as the man tried to downplay his skills and prefer to only boast about his ‘sick af skywars’ abilities, he was a man of great, extensive imagination.
Within seconds he could create a blueprint in his mind that would entail a masterfully thought-out building for any kind of terrain given to him. Ideas would roll off his tongue at such speeds even D3rlord had trouble catching up.
He guessed that’s why Avery wasn’t that good with puzzles. The man simply couldn’t work with something half-done given to him. He had to reimagine or invent something completely new which would fit his criteria – with such a thing, he could do wonders. Who needs puzzles if one can simply make a roundabout solution to it?
It seemed like Avery thrived on such a way of life.
His entire relationship with D3rlord happened because Avery decided he would spell out his affections in the most indirect way. But that story had already been told.
What D3rlord really wanted to focus on was what they were doing now.
After his seemingly unprecedented panic the day before, they decided it would be good to discuss it with no stress or pressure.
Avery threw him the notebook, D3rlord catching it and automatically flipping it open on a page where he had a list of his triggers. Already, the apple had been written down with a huge question mark placed right next to it.
There was another thing written down beneath it. A very simple:
‘why???’
“Is that the question I'm supposed to answer?” D3rlord chuckled, the open inquiry leaving him quite confused.
“Yup! You know the drill. How do you feel about that topic? Does it sprung up any memories? Any weird, you know, prejudices against it that you didn't know you had. All this stuff, we've done this before,” Avery listed as if those were the easiest things to describe in the world, “You can do it, sweetie.”
Alright, with such encouragement those were the easiest things in the world.
With no reason to uphold, D3rlord shifted through his inventory for a quill and pulled it out. He placed it under the question, letting the ink stain the pages as he thought what his mind was telling him.
Obviously, if he had to take a deeper dive into his thoughts, they would be a knot of unfinished theories and timelines. Finding a definite answer was a challenge on its own when you had thousands to choose from.
So he let himself think, his quill unmoving. With a steady step he followed Avery around the dock, who seemed to be distracted by decorating the space, only occasionally glancing at D3rlord to check if he was alright.
Avery was just milling, filling empty spaces with crates and such. D3rlord knew the man would never rush him when he required time to think. So under a false pretence Avery would busy himself with random tasks and what not.
It was quite nice, D3rlord had to admit. The feeling that he was not pressured but nevertheless under a watchful eye. If anything happened or if his mind would once again spiral he had someone who would catch him.
He lifted his eye from the page, seeing that Avery had moved further into the city. D3rlord sped up his walk to catch up to him.
The houses started to surround him as he strolled through empty streets. The architecture based on the ancient mediterranean style. Walls white or tinged with yellow, bricks laying on the rooftops, making them bright red in contrast. Streets were cobbled, grand aqueducts passing up above them.
Throughout Avery’s mission to make the city more lived in, he added various bushes and ivy alongside chiseled columns and entrances. The houses were left open, their interiors exposed to the iodine seaside air. Filled with tables of mighty sizes, Persian carpets and pots of exotic greenery.
The streets themselves were a host to many fountains, hedges and walkways. Orchards lining one after another, wooden benches placed where the sun was shining down.
And Avery was running between all those buildings. A carefree smile accompanied him as he proudly passed the things he had built. It was as if he knew every corner, knew where to place another detail to make the place seem alive and not overcrowded at the same time.
D3rlord abandoned picking apart his own struggles just to appreciate his lover. Taking in how light his steps were, how the sun was shining through his skin, making him glow.
Avery disappeared behind a corner, walking through an arch. D3rlord followed him and leaned against the side of the entrance while the other man stood on a raised balcony. It was higher than the surrounding streets, a little stage if one will.
His boyfriend stood at the centre of it, looking through the blocks he had trying to think what to place there. In the meantime, D3rlord returned back to his notebook, quill once again on the paper.
‘its something that hasnt happened yet’
He wrote down.
‘- narrow down the date’
Avery started placing blocks.
‘- memories or a random event from the future?’
He flipped onto the next page.
‘- it made me think about’
The quill stayed suspended in the air, it shook a little with how he was gripping it. He pressed it down once again.
‘suicide and death – maybe mine’
Something moved in the corner of his vision. Avery was standing in front of him, a couple meters away from the little stage he was previously on. He was looking at it with a judgemental stare so D3rlord also looked in its direction.
In the middle of the balcony stood a half sculptured man. Made from marble, his limbs straight, shaped with no finer details. He had the posture of a soldier, standing stiffly as if waiting for a command. Arms pressed against his sides, shoulders squared. And his face… D3rlord didn’t know from where Avery got it but he placed a skull on its neck. The bone harshly pushed down on an unfinished appendage which seemed to be the top of the spine. The loose jaw was hanging crookily, while empty eyesockets were boring holes into Avery who remained in front of it.
As if on instinct, D3rlord pushed himself off the wall, standing alarmed right behind Avery. The other man took no notice of his tense stance, instead slightly turning to him with a perplexed expression.
“A bit too… unfitting for this town, don’t you think?” he asked, his focus locked on the statue.
“Why did you build this?” D3rlord choked out, grabbing Avery's arm and dragging him a step back.
“Whoa, whoa!” the man shouted out as the sudden force knocked him off balance, “What do you mean why?” Avery looked at D3rlord confused while the other kept on staring daggers at the sculpture.
“Just- from where do you know it?” D3rlord tried to clarify, because surely Avery hadn’t simply-
“I’ve-... built it. I didn’t copy it from anywhere. I… built it. Are you feeling alright, Der?” Avery fully turned around to face him. He placed his hands on his hips and measured the other man's face with an identical judgemental stare he had for the statue.
“No- you’ve just-”
D3rlord's words got stuck in his throat.
He took in the scenery that was surrounding them once again. Yellow walls, brick rooftops, streets of cobble and occasional greenery. A random structure of marble nowhere else to be found in the city.
He knew this fucking place.
“Avery, we need to get out of here.”
“Wait, what-?”
D3rlord tightly gripped Avery’s hand and quickly started leading them away. The walls of the city blurred in his vision as he tried to navigate. He could feel his breathing quickening as his heart started doing loops. The sun that was shining down upon them was strangely scorching. He expected for it to suddenly disappear, covering the town in darkness with only a few lights to illuminate their way.
It felt like the city stretched on forever, every alley turned into another. It was like a maze that didn’t have an exit. Walls looked the same and every step of his seemed to pull him further away.
Something was dragging him down, but his stride didn’t falter. It couldn’t falter. He just needed to find the escape, he needed to find the gate-
“FUCK OFF!” Something broke away from his hold. He paused and turned around, checking what it was.
Avery was standing, leaning forward and holding tightly onto his wrist. His skin was broken there, ooze dripping from a wound. Something had cut deep into the tissue. D3rlord could see the inner parts of a muscle damaged, the flesh slit and jagged. Avery hissed as he tried to use his shirt to wrap a protective layer around it using his other arm.
D3rlord stood a couple steps away, staring at the scene mortified. The panic that had recently been screaming in his mind suddenly became overshadowed by an indescribable amount of worry. He looked down at himself and saw that one of his gauntlets had its sharp edges covered in a lucent liquid. He moved his shaking fingers, watching as the liquid dripped down from them.
Had… had he done that?
“Shit,” he rushed forward, pulling out some type of cloth from his inventory.
When Avery saw him advance, he took one step back before he halted his movements. He seemed to properly assess D3rlord from top to bottom, face scrunched with slight hesitance. However, when D3rlord raised his hands slightly when they were a foot apart, Avery gave him a curt nod and brandished his wrist to him.
“Sorry, sorry,” D3rlord profusely apologised as he delicately started to tie a make-shift bandage, “I am so stupid, god! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.”
Avery tightly closed his eyes when the cloth settled over the wound. It felt uncomfortable against the injury but at least it stopped the bleeding.
“It will regenerate anyway. It’s… fine,” Avery mumbled.
D3rlord could fucking hear the full stop in that sentence.
“No, it's not-” he started but was quickly cut off.
“Just grab my shulker boxes for me, will you?” Avery turned away from him, clutching his arm close to his chest.
D3rlord’s eye followed him until he disappeared behind a corner. Right as he lost his partner from the view, the gears in his head started turning once again.
He tripped over his feet as he started to briskly walk to join his lover. He expected the streets to stretch beyond the horizon, like they had done mere minutes ago. However, when he took a turn that Avery did, he was already standing on the harbour. The city behind no longer stretched on.
In front of him, the waves in the ocean were restless, crashing against the marina with such force which D3rlord hadn't seen in ages. The water from the high foams painted the cobbled roads and left dark stains on the ground. The sun failed to evaporate them as it had hid behind a layer of gray clouds.
The France II and Santa María – the ships they had built together ages ago on the expanse of the sea – were hidden behind a thick fog. Only their highest sails visible beyond the curtain.
D3rlord felt some unknown trepidation looking at them. The gloomy, damp imaginary leaving him off kilter. He could swear there was a hidden light amongst that fog.
Although there were more important things he needed to assess.
Avery was trying to pick up a shulker box using his one hand.
It was placed on a bench, so he didn't have to bend much to reach it, then again balancing the heavy storage on one forearm seemed to be challenging.
D3rlord picked up his pace and placed his hands under the box. He lifted it up and took the entirety of its weight on himself, leaving Avery with no baggage.
They began to walk home in silence. An unsettling feeling being present in the air.
The shulker box didn't feel safe in his hands. He felt betrayed by his own body that he had acted so recklessly. He cursed his own armour for the sharp edges in the plates of gloves that did harm to his lover. He should file them to make sure they wouldn't hurt someone again.
Fuck, he had messed up.
***
D3rlord hoped the day would pass faster than usual. He had no energy to fight against the onslaught of negativity his brain seemed keen on presenting to him and neither did he think to be in a good enough state to try to mitigate Avery's anger.
He would properly apologise, of course, but that had to wait until both of them were calmed down. He hoped that that could happen in the late evening. Because surely it couldn't happen when they made it back to their house, as Avery immediately went straight for his bedroom, leaving D3rlord to his own devices.
With a sigh, D3rlord started mindlessly doing menial tasks to fill the time. Storing the shulker box, cleaning some windows, returning the mixer to its designated shelf.
It felt weird to stand alone in a house when he knew his companion was somewhere amongst those walls.
Multiple times his senses played tricks on him, making him hear as if someone was calling from an adjacent room. He turned around each time, stepping into the hallways, checking if those sounds were surely figments of his imagination.
Each time, he had to return to the kitchen disappointed.
At some point, he decided to ignore these calls, preferring on preparing Avery’s favourite soup as a part of his apology. The man couldn’t go a full day without eating anything, so perhaps during a late supper they would have an opportunity to discuss-
“I’ve called you.”
-what had happened.
D3rlord turned around on his heel, looking at the open doors leading to the hallway.
None other than Avery stood there. His flip-flops were nowhere to be found, feet padded by cotton socks, shifting nervously on the floor. His Hawaiian shirt was loosely hanging on one of his shoulders, no other clothing underneath it. The injured arm was being held up by the healthy one, bandaid unwrapped and barely hanging on his wrist.
The skin was still teared open, however – what D3rlord presumed was the flesh – started to regenerate. The torn muscle tissue seemed almost fully healed with the exception of a couple of places which continued to produce ooze.
“I-I need help with my shirt,” Avery said after a couple of seconds, “a-and getting a shower would also be nice,” the man tried to motion using his hands while speaking, but every attempt resulted in him wincing in pain.
D3rlord instantly abandoned the soup he was preparing. He flicked the stove off and washed his hands. He proceeded to stand by Avery’s side, whispering a quiet ‘of course’. He laid his arm over the other man’s shoulder and led them to the bathroom.
He gestured for Avery to sit down on the toilet lid while the bathtub was filling up. He checked the water temperature, making sure it wasn't too cold nor too hot.
Too cold meant his boyfriend would solidify. Too hot meant his boyfriend would melt. Not in a good way, of course.
D3rlord chose a random body wash and poured a handful, for a second looking distractedly at how the bubbles formed under the stream of water. He tapped out a quick rhythm with his fingers on the tub's glaze before turning back to his partner.
“Right, that’s filling up. Let me help you then,” he whispered, more to himself rather than Avery. He went down on one knee before the man, hands gently taking hold of Avery’s ankles. He tried to keep his gaze focused on how his fingers were taking the socks off with as little hassle as he could muster, though he also kept his head low because he was simply unnerved by what expression Avery’s face could hold. With an unsure voice, he next said: “I’ll help you undress and then I can go. I don’t want to-... bother you, let’s just say.”
His words were answered by silence.
His hands moved on to the black belt, swiftly pulling apart the buckle and starting to take the leather from the loops of the shorts. He would have loved to continue those motions without any interruptions, hoping his mind could wander away from the awkward, stagnant atmosphere that settled in the room, however his desires could not be met.
A soft finger was placed under his chin, faint pressure pushing his head up until he was looking at Avery.
The man was smiling slightly, head titled to the side, smallest hints of eyebags present. His eyes were slowly taking in every detail of D3rlord’s face, gazing over his lips which he knew were cracked and abused from his constant nervous biting to his wrinkled forehead from neverending worrying.
“You can stay,” Avery finally answered with a chuckle, “I’m not cruel, I won’t kick a puppy when it’s stressed so much.”
“...what?” D3rlord replied confused, before the meaning of the words sunk in. He let out a hearty laugh and pressed his head against Avery’s knee, “You mean me, as a- okay I get it.”
His hair got ruffled through and he looked up with a steady smile of his own. His hands finally managed to take the belt off, which he let clatter on the ground.
“I do not look like a kicked puppy,” he tried to argue with a serious tone, but the occasional chuckles that escaped him destroyed that illusion, “You saying I look miserable when I worry about my boyfriend? Should I stop?” he teased, finally feeling the suffocating atmosphere disappearing.
D3rlord could swear he saw Avery’s soul floating away from him as the man started to frantically argue why he shouldn’t stop worrying about him. He could only place his elbows on Avery’s thighs and stare at the man with a proud smile.
“-I’m not saying it’s something bad but you have to-” he listened to the ramble with utmost attention, “-like it’s nice that you worry but don’t worry too much if that makes sense? Because you know, this is just an injured arm, it will be okay in like, two to four business days, I’m a slime so it will be an easy-peasy repair-”
“Speaking about your arm,” D3rlord interrupted him, hoping he didn't come off as rude, “I am incredibly sorry, I want to apolo-”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Avery interrupted him, hoping he did come off as rude, “At least wait to beg for my forgiveness after you get me out of my shorts, will you?”
D3rlord looked at him unamused as Avery sent him a crooked wink.
“I'm leaving.”
“Wait, no-!”
D3rlord did, indeed, not leave.
With badly suppressed laughs, sly remarks, and copious amounts of struggle he did finally manage to get his boyfriend undressed. While every other piece of clothing could be removed with no trouble, the iconic shirt proved to be quite challenging.
Because ‘moving my hand this way hurts’. Because ‘I cannot twist my elbow that much’. Because ‘I need to support my arm otherwise it hurts’.
“If you are so whiney, I can just cut it open and-”
“Hell naw, man! It holds more memories than your stupid brain does-”
Finally, they managed to get the offending shirt off by laying Avery's injured arm on the edge of the sink while D3rlord bit by bit dragged the cloth off the limb. D3rlord carefully placed it on a towel hanger, in the meantime Avery climbed into the tub.
He placed his pained arm on the side, not letting it get soaked. He sank low enough for his nose to be barely above the water surface, eyes tracking D3rlord as the other man cushioned his head on his forearms and leaned against the bath's edge.
Avery emerged a tiny bit, cold air of the bathroom grazing his shoulders and making him shiver. He stared at the bubbles in the water for a while, mulling over what he was about to say.
“Sorry, for being a bitch,” he managed through gritted teeth, “Earlier, I mean. In the city. I was… slightly mad at you for no real reason.”
D3rlord lifted his head, staring in disbelief at a very timid Avery whose gaze seemed stuck on the bubbly liquid. He could see the light blush which the man sported, not sure if it was from the hot water or something else.
“Are you joking?” D3rlord asked, astonishment clear in his voice, “I should be the one apologising, I'm the one who messed up-”
Avery was already shaking his head.
“No, no, I should've noticed something triggered you and I didn't, so it's my fault-”
“I also didn't know I got triggered. It happened suddenly and I acted out irrationally-" D3rlord raised his voice, not enough to be shouting but hopefully enough for his frustration to be clear, “I should've known something was wrong, it's my mind after all. Not yours.”
“‘Not yours’ doesn't mean I should be completely ignorant towards you. Your problems are on my mind too. I acted shitty when blaming you for a thing you can't control-”
“Can’t control? Avery, it's my fault you got hurt-”
“No, it's not-”
“It was my glove which fucking pierced you-!”
“Not your fault-!”
“You matter to me and I hurt you-!”
“As I said-”
“Avery, fucking listen to me!”
D3rlord couldn't control his voice anymore, letting it snap and sound throughout the house. His arms slammed on the glazed edge and his muscles responded with pain but he didn't care. He leveled Avery with his glare, pointing an accusing finger in his direction.
The other man in response squared his shoulders and dipped lower into the water. Mouth barely above the surface. His body became more liquified, as if in case of emergency it could disappear in the contents of the bathtub.
D3rlord shook his finger, letting out a harsh laugh before he continued to speak.
“Do you know what triggered me?” He asked, tone serious and unwavering.
Avery stayed quiet.
“Answer me, Avery,” he reprimanded.
“No,” it sounded like an eight year old denying he stole cookies from a jar.
“Were there any signs that a trigger may appear?”
“Mhm-... No.”
“Did I react in a way that I most commonly react with triggers?”
“Well-”
“No, the answer is no, Avery.”
The other man grumbled and quietly hissed something that resembled a string of definitely-not-offending epithets.
“Could you have in any, ANY way, prevented what had happened?” D3rlord raised his hands, exaggerating a questioning motion. When he noticed that Avery was staying silent, he continued, “The answer? Is also a solid no. So what do all these answers spell out together? It-was-not-your-fault. Period,” he finished his spiel with an air of finality.
“Actually-” Avery raised his finger while D3rlord looked at him with doubtful intrigue, “They spell out no-no-no-no, mister.”
“I-” D3rlord groaned and dragged his hands down his face, in his mind begging he could just face plant onto the floor, “You know what I mean. So look me square in the face, c’mon.”
Avery rolled his eyes, however he did begrudgingly shift his gaze in D3rlord’s direction.
“You did nothing wrong, you hear me?” he pointed a finger at his partner, staring deep into his eyes to get his message through, “And if you still think that this was partially your fault – which I know you are convinced of in your head – then know that I forgive you and I could never blame you, alright?”
The other man nodded, although his unsure motions basically showed that he was in no way convinced. He dipped under the water surface, only the tip of his head and injured arm remaining above it. He stayed there for a couple of seconds, meanwhile D3rlord reached for the mountains of bubbles, taking a bit of them in his hand and playing with the foam. Avery resurfaced, wiping the droplets from his eyes and letting his body be covered by the warm liquid.
D3rlord leaned across the tub’s edge, pressing a soft peck to Avery’s hair. As if an afterthought, he brought his hand to the man’s cheek and tilted his head to properly kiss him on the lips. Avery hummed into it, changing his position to make it a bit deeper. It didn't last long, merely a couple of moments. Parting left them huffing out quiet chuckles, as the bubbles which D3rlord had on his hands were now sticking to Avery's cheek. D3rlord was wiping them away as he decided to gently speak:
“But I do want to say I'm sorry. Really sorry. This shouldn't have happened in the first place,” he pressed his forehead against Avery's, letting his words fill the room, “While I know I'm not truly… there, I-I mean in the right state of mind, when these triggers happen, however it should be my job to minimise the aftermath. A-and today I failed at that, I didn't want to hurt you then and I don't want to hurt you ever again. So I'm sorry,” during the last sentence he was glancing at the injured arm from the corner of his eye, guilt blossoming in his heart, “I'm sorry, dear.”
“Well-” Avery began, pulling back from the touch and sending D3rlord a bright smile, “Let's say you are forgiven. You will be fully forgiven if you finish that soup you were making. It looks tasty,” he added with a laugh.
“While of course,” D3rlord joined him in his laughter, “Come on, you will start mixing with the water if you stay there any longer,” he reached for the towel and Avery's clothes.
“Oh, yeah. The water is getting colder either way,” the man replied. He held up his injured arm with the other, making sure it wasn't hustled too much, “Do you know how to uh… make a sling for this thing?”
“I… don't,” D3rlord said and let the thoughts in his head race. He smiled then, “But I do now.”
***
“Sow, whaw did you wrihwe in whe noweboohw?” Avery asked, spoon shoved into his mouth.
“Whaw wiw I whaw?” D3rlord mocked his speech.
“The notebook,” Avery clarified, taking the spoon out.
“Oh, I thought you almost forgot about it,” D3rlord mused, washing the pot in the sink.
“I did almost forgot about it, but! Have you written anything down?” The book got tossed in Avery's direction, opening on the list of triggers. He looked curiously at them, and dragged his fingers over the newly written notes, “What do you mean by… ‘its something that hasn't happened yet?’”
“I don't know how to explain it really… Imagine like-” he made a circling motion with his hands, trying to think of a good example while Avery kept on analysing the notebook, “-a déjà vu, just backwards. Normally you have a hunch that something has already happened or repeated, but with what I experienced it’s… more like… I know, I-I know that something will happen,” he could hear some nervous tapping coming from the table, unaware of its source, “Not right now, not even in the span of nearest months, I just know it will happen. It's not a prediction, it's a guarantee I would say-”
“‘- it made me think about… suicide and death – maybe mine.’ Der- what?” D3rlord turned around to see Avery looking at him with the most heartbroken expression he ever saw, “W-what suici-”
“Oh, fuck. Wait, wait, wait. Shit, let me explain! It's not what you think,” D3rlord immediately abandoned the dishes, instead pulling a chair across Avery and sitting down at the table. He pointed at the sentence the man had read out, “Those are not my thoughts, okay honey? It just felt like…it,” he finished unsurely.
“Felt like what…?” Avery asked, sounding as if he didn't want to know the answer.
“How do I explain… Wait, I got it,” he stood up from the table suddenly, desperately searching for two glasses. He filled one of them to the brim while the other remained half full. He placed them on the table.
“You remember that explanation I did a while ago about my brain and comparing it to a glass? I know you do, but can you confirm?” D3rlord looked at him patiently, waiting for an answer.
“I cannot believe we are doing this again,” Avery groaned, leaning on his healthy arm and staring at the vessels with distaste, “Yes, I do remember.”
“Right, but in this case, we have two brains,” D3rlord showcased the glasses, moving them towards Avery, “So focus. Two glasses, two completely separate brains, two completely separate people. But! What do they have in common?”
“I don't know… They are both filled with… water?” Avery questioned, doubting if they were going to get anywhere with this puppet show.
“Bingo.”
Oh, perhaps they would.
“Both of these are filled with water which – we know from the previous time – represents knowledge. One of them is full, so that one is infinite, the other is half empty, so it's normal knowledge. Are you with me?”
“I think so?” Avery leaned back in his chair, making it stand on two legs as he pondered this conundrum, “Do we know who the normal person is?”
“Yes…? Not quite. Honestly, it's not the main point so let's skip it for now,” D3rlord picked up a glass, looking through its crystal walls, “This is, supposedly, me. There is nothing connecting me with the uh… stranger. The only thing we have in common is our knowledge, however… Mine knowledge is infinite, what does that entail?” He glanced at his boyfriend to see if he was still keeping up. Safe to say seeing Avery nodding along to his words with brows furrowed in focus was the cutest thing he saw all day.
“That you know everything.”
“Expand on that.”
“Wha- How?” Avery asked dumbfounded, “Everything means everything. What is there more to add?”
“Wait, let me rephrase that,” D3rlord raised his one hand and with the other he picked up the second glass, “List me some random things that I know that a normal human shouldn't. I think that's better.”
“Oh. You uhh…” Avery seemed to think for a while before snapping his fingers, “You can predict any event,” he said with pride, happy that he found an example.
“That’s correct, good job. Any more?”
“Technically, you have access to every information source.”
“Yes.”
“And… I guess you know what I think? At least you try not to.”
“That’s also true, but it isn't only limited to you. Because in reality,” he shook the half-filled glass in his hands slightly, letting a couple of drops spill, “I know everything, even the strangers' thoughts. So, they've got their memories and I know them. And that's where the problem lies.”
D3rlord started pouring water into the already full vessel, the contents of it spilling over the edge. Avery looked at the wet puddles which formed on the table, distaste and dread slowly appearing in his gut.
D3rlord put back the second glass on the table harshly, only a small amount of water left on its bottom.
“I suspect that this is what happened. Somebody's – not precisely my memories – managed to overlap with my knowledge, mix if you prefer. Their suffering appeared in my mind at my expense and my mind cannot differentiate between what was supposed to be mine or theirs. Does… this make sense?” He looked up at Avery who was biting his lip nervously.
“So, those thoughts aren’t yours?” Avery asked, wanting to make sure he understood everything correctly.
“No, they are not.”
“Does this happen… a lot?”
“Uff… hard to say. I've gotten better at selecting the thoughts that are truly mine to a point that the unimportant ones don't bother me. These seem particularly obtrusive though,” D3rlord rubbed the back of his head, examples appearing in his mind.
“Do you- uh… know the person you have those memories from?” Avery looked down, staring at the puddles on the table. Drops fell beyond the edge, splashing onto the floor while the man tapped the wooden surface nervously, “Did they… follow through?”
“No and…” D3rlord started but his voice fell silent.
He could feel how the omniscient knowledge was bubbling under the surface, ready to pounce and give him the answers. He tried his best to keep it at bay, an uncomfortable sensation settling in his bones.
He didn't want to pry. Not only that, he didn't want to dive into a mind of a suspected suicide victim. Who knew what would lay there.
The sole thought that the fate of that particular person could be revealed to him in a span of a second was simply terrifying.
He concluded that he would respect their privacy. Let secrets remain secrets. Let buried bodies stay rotting.
“I think that's not a matter of concern to us.”
Avery merely nodded in understanding, one hand placed tightly over the injured wrist as he processed that information.
“I think you should head to bed, dear. What happened today was tiring enough, I think. We can discuss this… tomorrow, I guess. I will clean up and join you soon,” D3rlord stood up from the table and rounded it. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on top of Avery's hair.
His partner sent him a small smile and started making his way out of the room without another word.
D3rlord sighed tiredly, taking a cloth and wiping the water away.
***
whichissomethingIfindquitedispleasurable
He wanted to narrow down the date.
andmymindbecomesaprison
He wanted to know what had happened.
thisisjustthecost
He desperately wanted to know who it was-
pleasedontthinkyoufailedAvery
Shit.
He stared at the ceiling, laying wide awake.
Avery had long ago fallen asleep, lightly embracing D3rlord's side as he remained in the realm of made-up dreams.
The duvet was covering them both. The mattress underneath him exceptionally soft.
The world on the other side of the window was painted in dark blues and violets. Faraway stars blinking in the distance, them being a pathway leading through the sky.
He tried to find comfort in them, he truly did, but something in his mind was constantly nagging. It deprived him of rest and sanity, a mystery yet unresolved. And he knew the answers to it, its secrets. He just had to ask the right question.
He thought about the disgusting taste on his tongue. About the yellow walls and red rooftops melting together.
They felt familiar, strangely, with no real reason.
But there had to be one, right?
It had been ages since the last time he had to search his brain for answers.
The thought lines weaving between his fingers. Solutions presenting to him like endless plains of red flowers. Hopefully one of them would be the correct one. So he picked at random, choosing a line of questions and memories which would potentially lead him closer to solving this tiring mystery.
He recalled the time when they were working apart the golden gates which Avery had built. The intricate, yellow lines at that point were no longer a cause of panic to him, thankfully they managed to work out that particular problem. The memory of these doors being blown up to smithereens still filling him with satisfaction. However, that place hadn’t stopped making him feel bitter.
He hadn't returned there since they had destroyed the gates. Avery sometimes did. He said he was whittling away at the build, adding small details and whatnot. D3rlord was glad Avery wasn't scared of that place, instead continuing to perfect it on his own.
From time to time D3rlord could see it from a distance. A grand cathedral towering over the horizon. The base of it sturdy, strong, while the spires reached high into the sky.
A proud monument it was, walls of it gray and chiseled, no doubt hundreds of hours spent poring over them. It looked beautiful, a megalomaniac showcase of power and control.
D3rlord could imagine standing at its foot once again. Talking with Avery about design choices and carpets.
-gravel underneath his shoes as sickish grass whispered its troubles in the wind. Dark stars above him, sun forgotten. A pier abandoned while empty buildings became its blurry background. And in the middle a castle with the doors, the gates. Inviting him in, pulling him closer, deepening his hunger of curiosity.
He knew that's where he would meet them. The final destination of his journey. The last of gates and the last of worlds.
Hopefully, Avery blocked all the doors-
What?
His eye snapped open as his head ached strongly. He quickly untangled himself from Avery's hold and sat up on the bed, rubbing his forehead to hopefully lessen the pain.
D3rlord could feel it. It was like a needle had been placed inside his brain convolutions. While they couldn't register pain, he could sense how the tiny needle shifted between the poor tissue. Drawing blood every time its sharp tip grazed the organ.
D3rlord knew it was a psychosomatic thing. There was nothing there physically, just his stupid mind playing tricks on him.
He breathed deeply, closing his eye and leaning forward on the bed.
“Mm…Der? You al’ight there, hon?” Avery shifted somewhere near his side, the healthy hand immediately reaching out to trace a pattern on his back, “What's going on?”
“I've just-” D3rlord started to speak but his voice failed him.
Because he what?
What had happened really?
Was it another unwelcome vision? A glance into someone else's life? Then why did the castle look the same as the one in their world…
…
…
D3rlord felt a shiver run down his spine, a never failing warning that something was definitely wrong. He opened his eye and turned towards Avery who was looking at him with confusion.
“Avery.”
“Yes?”
“From… where do you get your ideas for builds?”
Avery laughed lightly, hiding his face in the duvet, not awake enough to register the trepidation that slowly creeped into D3rlord's expression.
“From my head, silly,” he chuckled out, lifting his head and looking at his partner with a hazy, starstruck gaze.
“And nothing else? No visions, no weird images or memories? Nobody… put them in your head?” D3rlord continued to question. Avery's answer calmed him down a tiny bit, but he still needed to make sure, “Just your own thoughts?”
“Well, yeah obviously… Though I've been thinking,” Avery started, "Remember that horrible dream I had right before we started dating? In it were fields of yellow flowers and I didn't like them. However,” D3rlord listened carefully, “I could see mountains in the distance. Tall, tips covered with snow. I liked them. I could recreate them and add a-”
The sharp pain in his head returned, making him wince.
“-couple of bridges between them. Would make a pretty picture, I think.”
Right. He could rule out pure coincidence from possible reasons. There was no way Avery could with such accuracy describe scenery from the unknown strangers' memories that were stuck in his brain.
“You-”
There were so many words D3rlord wanted to say. That there was something wrong. That Avery was doing something he wasn’t even remotely aware of. That the person from the other side of the reality seemed to be afraid of something Avery had created. That, in his mind, the fine line of what he perceived as theirs suddenly blurred into theirs-and-someones.
That Avery without realising was shaping a world that would ultimately destroy… them.
That what D3rlord had defined as home just a day before was now nothing but a place of omens and heartbroken memories.
Somewhere along the way, Avery started recreating the world that manifested itself in his mind as a horrid nightmare.
And he should have said that.
“-You should head back to sleep, sweetheart,” he leaned down and gave Avery two gentle kisses. One on the forehead, one on the injured wrist. The other man only replied with a pleasant hum, before rearranging himself to lay down once again, “Sorry for waking you.”
He should have told Avery straight away, but he could file it under as a tomorrow-him problem.
***
“You keep this place locked?”
“Well, yeah. You normally don't want to go here, so I thought why not?”
“Okay…”
It was slightly cold standing in the shadow. He fiddled with the plates of his armour as Avery tried to open the rusty lock. D3rlord glanced behind himself, seeing random blocks placed on a large field in a pattern. He let his mind wander and figured those were Avery’s markings for where he would build up a bunch of houses. That image of a near future uncanny and uncomfortable in his mind.
He returned to looking at the castle doors. Avery was crutching at their foot, muttering some curses while D3rlord took in the true size of the building. His partner was at least six times smaller than the brass gates. Half finished statues guarding the entrance were also of similar size, though who knows if they wouldn’t be made larger in the future, their bodies reworked and resculptured.
D3rlord tried to tilt his head back to look at the highest towers of the castle. To do so, he had to lean back completely, his balance shifting. The sun was somewhere behind the spires, casting a clear shadow that covered the nearby ground.
A metallic noise could be heard.
“‘ve got it!” Avery announced proudly. Next he started pushing the heavy doors, cracking them open slightly and dipping inside, “Come on in!”
He followed without saying a word, carefully assessing every piece of the build. He could recall how they placed these walls together. How Avery tended to dance to Ward in these empty halls, making a fool out of himself just to make D3rlord smile. He remembers discussions about which patterns to put on the floor and which carpets to use.
But now wasn’t the time to be nostalgic. Actually, it was time to be quite the opposite.
In the morning, D3rlord had told Avery that they needed to talk. However, firstly he had to assess something. So he asked Avery to bring them to the unofficial Sagrada Família, the castle. The same place where they used to spend so much time building together. Where he had his first encounter with a trigger which sent him spiraling. And finally later, the place where they had gotten rid of it, blowing it to pieces.
And to no surprise, Avery suspected their visit was something connected with that piece of their history too. So immediately after entering, he turned away from the main chamber, instead heading for the room where the golden gates used to be.
“Wait, wait,” D3rlord sped up and grabbed the man by the hand when he had stepped on the staircase, “I want to see the main altar.”
“Uhhh…” Avery looked between him and the steps, “...Sure? You’ve never been there though…”
“I know, I know. Just trust me,” he pulled his boyfriend in the direction he wanted to go, Avery following him without any question.
What Avery said was true, D3rlord had never truly been in these castle parts. His mind obviously supplied him with tips where he should head, nevertheless there was something present that was beyond his knowledge.
It was a strange feeling of dread.
He felt as if he was walking straight into a trap. The walls were familiar in a way that just screamed that they wanted to lure him in.
And finally, when he could swear the tension in his bones was ready to snap, he made it to the center piece. A simple platform, raised two steps. Gold ring surrounding it and yellowish patterns sculptured on it.
He didn’t want to stand on it. Not now, not never.
Not yet.
“I want to put something in the middle. It feels empty.”
Avery had no reason to falter, choosing to walk up the steps and stand on the platform.
“You seem-... worried. Is something wrong with this?” Avery asked, voice still light but it gained a nervous edge over the course of a couple of minutes.
D3rlord tried to swallow the lump in his throat, already mentally preparing for the conversation. There was a lot to discuss. Not mentioning if he even put the pieces together correctly.
“Avery.”
“Yes?”
“Remember that time,” he started. He walked up to the steps, not going up. When Avery inched closer to him, he reached upwards to grasp his boyfriend’s hands. He took stability in their warmth, taking a deep breath before he continued to speak, “When you were sick? You’ve had dreams, hallucinations, a lot of things really.”
“I remember, yeah,” Avery softly replied, his eyes dancing from side to side as he recalled those memories, “Not a fun time to be honest. The King messed with my head a lot.”
“And do you remember how I talked with them? We've made a deal and I didn't tell you what it was.”
“Wasn’t them fingering my face part of that deal?” Avery questioned with a laugh, bringing a lighter atmosphere into the room.
D3rlord wanted to answer with a chuckle to that, but surprisingly – even to himself – it got stuck in his throat.
He could recall their impromptu meeting with The King with no trouble. The biting winds of the wintery climate. The heavy crossbow trigger under his finger. The golden rope which eclipsed his entire vision. And the neverending fear present in his heart at the mere thought that Avery and The King were so close to each other.
It was strange, that in that moment, he was standing face to face with an omniscient and omnipotent creature. Possibly the only other thing in the world which knew his thoughts the same as he knew theirs.
The conversation and debate they had with each other was silent, a stream of thoughts and predictions. He remembers the steps he took, with every question ‘what did The King want?’ he dived into the future to see their demands. What did they entail, what would be the consequences?
He wanted to make sure that what he agreed with would pose no danger to Avery. And if additionally it would bring no harm to him as well, that would be very much welcomed.
And they did seal their deal. A compromise which was hopefully satisfactory.
They agreed that he and Avery would be left alone, as whatever The King was searching for would not be within this world nor would it be given to them freely.
The King requested time and access to their world. Time as in both of the men couldn't demand their presence, they would disappear without a trace and would not provide information if called.
And the access… D3rlord at the time didn't understand what that was. When he analysed that request further, stepping years and years into the future, all he saw was that The King's lair would remain in their little survival world.
It would not change, not even be touched and approached by them.
But now, he understood what The King had received at their end of the deal.
They had hoped for a vessel, but D3rlord had already damaged Avery, making this Avery too imperfect to be used. His lover’s mind was already too full of uncomfortable and unconventional information which none of the vessels could bear. That meant, all the King had to do was wait for another vessel which fit their criteria to appear and choose them instead of his partner. However, they could still make use of his boyfriend while waiting and that's exactly what they had done.
“The fingering – god, I hate calling it that – it was uhh… a method of confirmation.”
“A confirmation of what?”
“Of whether your mind was adequate enough.”
That made Avery burst out laughing, letting go of D3rlord's hands as he covered his mouth. He took a second to calm his chuckles, before placing his hands on his partner's shoulders to keep steady.
“They told me I've got no brain though? I don't think they needed to examine me to discover that.”
Avery really did try to keep his words light and manner unconcerned. He smiled widely hoping that when he would lift his gaze to look at his partner, his mood would uplift D3rlord too.
But all he saw was a furrowed brow and a teary eye. The faint, dark features on his boyfriend's face clearly fighting to last a bit longer, to not crumble under whatever was weighing on his conscience. A slight tremor could be felt beneath Avery’s hands, a body struggling to remain proud and determined.
His pretense immediately fell apart. His smile withered down like a last flower before winter storms, eyes darting across D3rlord's face as if it held the secret key to his sudden sadness.
Trying to not jostle D3rlord too much, he slowly wrapped his arms around him, careful to not accidentally press against his injured forearm. He laid his head on his shoulder, swinging them slowly to the sides.
“What's inside that head of yours, dear? What are you talking about?”
“I- I just-”
D3rlord snapped his mouth shut, sinking into the embrace. His arms went to sneak around the back of Avery's head, bringing him even closer.
“I-I think I made a mistake?” his voice cracked on the last word, as if the concept of his misconduct was something alien even to his own mind.
“And what mistake is that, dear?”
“I- We’ve made that deal, right?”
“Yes and you were supposed to tell me what it was.”
“I might've given more of you away than I thought I did.”
The swinging came to a stop as Avery carefully considered these words. He tried to mix and shuffle them, place them in boxes and label, do anything so that they would gain sense. He couldn’t succeed, he wasn't good with puzzles after all.
“I just wanted us to be alone, to be together, because we don't get that luxury anywhere else,” D3rlord continued, squeezing his partner even tighter.
Avery didn't want to know where that anywhere else was.
“I just wanted for them to leave us alone, I begged for them to leave, because I love you so much and I want you to be mine, not theirs.”
“And I've told them to leave and they did, but they need a vessel, they need a vessel.”
“And it was you, it was supposed to be you and you and some other poor souls that they had taken away.”
“But it was already too late, too damn late for them because you are already mine,” D3rlord pulled away for the embrace, lifting his hand to gently cup a side of Avery's face. He tilted it slightly, a weak smile appearing as he appreciated his boyfriend, “Who knew love would be the thing that would stop them from making you theirs?”
“Well, I'm always yours,” Avery replied without any hesitance, as if it was a line that he had rehearsed thousands of times before, “I am entirely yours, aren't I?” he added with a soulful tone.
“About that…” D3rlord cast his gaze downwards as he already started chiding himself for what he was about to say, “Despite the fact that The King did leave us alone, despite the fact that we agreed they would not mess with us, it seems they still did something… to you.”
“And what is it, dear?”
“You keep building… something that they might use in the future. This cathedral, the city, the mountains you wanted to build. That guy, that someone whose memories keep mixing with mine, seems to know them. This world… I have a feeling it's going to be used for something bad in the future.”
“And I'm its creator?”
D3rlord nodded, too tired to keep his posture straight so he collapsed once again into the tight embrace Avery offered. Energy gone from his body, a weight lifting from his mind due to the confession but still a shadow of it remained.
He didn't indicate whether Avery understood his rambling correctly, knowing that the man would come to the right conclusion either way.
He could feel when that happened, as his boyfriend let out a sigh which always indicated his positive attitude was not enough to will the worries away.
“So, what I do here- what we do here, The King is going to use… for what?” Avery was starting to lose grip with what he was supposed to know. So many uncertainties, so many things which shouldn't happen but they did anyway. A mixture of confusion stirring in his head.
“In the future they will uh…” D3rlord felt the uncomfortable pang of infinite knowledge digging into his skull, always persistent and present, “...just they will use it. Against someone. Someone who – I guess – was in a similar predicament in which we used to be, maybe even a worse one.”
“Oh.”
“I-I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I am sorry you are involved at all. I wish I could deal with it on my own, handle it alone-”
“Hey, hey!” Avery stopped the beginning of what was probably supposed to be the longest apology of D3rlord's life, “We handle this together, don't you dare think otherwise. It's our mess. Not mine, not yours, but ours. So we figure out what to do together. Understand?” Avery pulled them apart, pointing an accusing finger to make his point more apparent.
“I-... Alright, alright…” the man mumbled, a resigned tone clear in his voice.
Safe to say he wasn’t satisfied with the situation yet. There was much to explain and carefully word so that Avery could even comprehend a portion of what mess they were in.
They were unconsciously playing a game for many months now, bathing in the conviction that all had been said and done. D3rlord truly thought nothing remained other than peacefully living the domestic life he was so mesmerised by. He thought he could enjoy the gentle and soothing feeling of someone sticking close to his side. Someone who was dear to him and for who he was dear too.
Now he could see that he might have miscounted the happy moments they were meant to spend together. They would still exist, they would still live through them. However now the future he wanted to weave together stood on foundations ready to crack and fall.
He made an exchange and he had to accept it.
A peace of mind and soul for them.
A perfect stage for a grand show for The King.
He would be lying to say that in some way he wasn't glad. Glad that he had made that deal. Glad that it wasn’t them who had to survive whatever hell the other stranger was going through. That they were merely the architects of doomfall meant for someone who they would never see or meet.
But that didn't mean his conscience was completely clean and undisturbed.
They would figure something out together, as Avery said.
Something that would lessen the pain the other person had to endure.
“I-I can destroy these buildings-”
“And destroy months of your work? No way in hell. I don't agree.”
“W-well, is there anything we could build that would cross The King's plans-?”
“They will find a way to incorporate it either way.”
“Fuck.”
And then Avery fell silent, looking at the ground with a pissed off expression. Seeing him standing on the raised platform was already causing D3rlord to itch uncomfortably, but he filed that feeling under a completely new category of ‘memories beyond his story.’
His boyfriend seemed to think for a while, foot dragging across the golden patterns. The mindless need to be moving persistent despite the circumstances. He flicked his wrist, an unfinished notion dancing back and forth in his irises as D3rlord could witness the most beautiful thing in the world.
He knew it before Avery did, but seeing it meticulously form in the span of seconds would always steal his breath away.
Avery snapped his fingers, eyes shining with pride that D3rlord adored, even in such a solemn and morbid situation.
“I've got an idea.”
***
Waking up early in the morn, D3rlord had witnessed an unusual sight.
Avery was hunched over his blueprints, the papers spread across duvets as he meticulously assessed them. His arm was still stuck in the sling, but the healthy one was determinedly grasping onto a pencil, drawing lead lines which would soon be transformed into a real building.
D3rlord kept on looking silently. Not moving an inch, not saying a word. He checked his mental clock, knowing it was around four in the morning.
He didn't like that his lover was so caught up in his thoughts. Preferring Avery to be present with him rather than be stuck in the whirlwind of his ideas at dawn. However he wouldn't force a change onto his partner. He knew that Avery's silent persistence was coming from a place of worry and confusion.
Confusion because he did not know the extent of the power his building abilities seemed to hold.
Worry because Avery was not stupid. And he knew that whoever was supposed to stumble upon their world in the future, was too similar to them.
Maybe they were them.
It was only a suspicion though.
D3rlord never stated in a straightforward manner that whoever was supposed to see this world was them.
Toned down moods, shaky hands settling at his waist, hushed comforts in the middle of the night, hesitant glances whenever touchy topics were brought up.
Those were enough of a statement.
And that suspicion made him lose sleep at night, because how do you comfort… yourself?
So Avery thought. Deep and hard, considering what he would like to stumble upon if he was drifting and exploring a world that he didn't know.
That was what the blueprints were for, ideas, projects, schematics… Avery corrected and changed them hundreds of times trying to find the perfect structure.
In the meantime, D3rlord let his hand wander. Skimming briefly over the pyjama shorts before sneaking underneath the light blouse of his partner. Avery made no indication if he had detected that touch, shuffling another paper with a furrowed brow and a grimace.
D3rlord dragged his finger, gently caressing the skin just above the other man's hipbone. He let himself appreciate how bubbles in his lover's shapely body would flee under the pressure he applied.
“What are you doing?” Avery said softly, not breaking the illusion of calmness that settled in the room. He also hadn't turned his head around, instead he simply tried to readjust the sling around his arm.
In lieu of giving him an answer, D3rlord shuffled across the mattress, twisting to get closer. His fingers lifted the shirt a tiny bit to allow him access to skin. He pressed a gentle kiss there, hearing an amused huff at his administration.
He knew Avery was smiling from ear to ear, hopefully this little comfort would be enough to get them through the morning.
There was a lot they had to get through either way.
Avery packed a whole bag, blueprints spilling out of it every twenty steps. His injured arm tied closely to his body, so it wouldn't bother him. Shulker boxes of materials weighed heavy in his pocket as he tried to navigate to a terrain which would become the basis for his build.
D3rlord was right behind him, leaning down every twenty steps to pick up lost papers and shove them in his pocket. Occasionally he would yell out ‘right!’ or ‘go forward!’, so that Avery did actually get to their destination.
And when they did, Avery told him to fuck off.
“I need some time alone, honey.”
Gently. Obviously.
So, he did. D3rlord sat down under a fig tree, staring at the shadows on the ground and forgetting about daily struggles. He pulled out the red notebook from his inventory. He looked at the list of his triggers for quite a while.
Although he knew he shouldn't, he tried to recall every item on that list, trying to sense if they were still a sore point. They were.
Whispers made his skin crawl, underwater caves made him panic. The image of eating an apple made him cough and want to spit out whatever he had eaten earlier.
He wanted to write down another trigger, to at least visualise it in front of him in writing, just as they had done with the previous ones.
‘Avery’s works.’
He wanted to write down.
However, the quill in his hand remained unmoving.
He knew Avery occasionally shifted through his notes. He wasn't afraid of his lover seeing them, as he wasn't exceptionally overprotective about them. Additionally, he never thought his trauma was in any way something he should be ashamed of, especially not in front of his partner.
Still, he didn't want to make it sound as if what Avery was doing was the problem. Because his boyfriend definitely wasn't the problem, it was his stupid brain that sometimes failed and stumbled in illogical loops.
That didn't remove the fact that certain builds did make him uncomfortable. That sprung up another line of questioning in his mind.
Would he ever get rid of those triggers?
Would they at some point become nothing but an insignificant detail?
Would he always remain… broken?
He knew what the answer to that question was, and as much as it weighed heavily on his soul, it was made a bit lighter due to one fact which Avery proved every single time.
Broken didn't mean unacceptable.
Being broken meant sitting on unfinished stairs hidden underneath a shirt.
Being broken meant zoning out during random conversations.
Being broken meant keeping a list of little things which were terrifying to no one else.
Being broken meant calming down while uncomfortably leaning on kitchen drawers.
Being broken meant spending hours reading books and learning how to cope.
Being broken meant failing to cope and coming back home knowing that he has failed and being afraid of admitting it and closing off because he doesn't want to be weak but he can't lie anymore and just wants to not be broken anymore so he just breaks down and all the shame all the fear all the doubts are washed away because being broken means returning back to Avery and hearing him say that he loves him.
Being broken meant promising Avery that he would try again and trying again. Trying again until he would be… less broken.
So, he reconsidered writing Avery's creations as a trigger. He thought about all those buildings. Cities, cathedrals, landscapes and accidental golden gates…
He put the quill away.
He would try again. Fight against his fear and try to appreciate their glory. He would do that.
For Avery.
He closed the notebook with a snap, lifting his gaze to see what Avery managed to do while he was thinking.
The man was briskly walking to and fro, balancing blocks on his healthy arm and placing them in patterns that only made sense to him.
D3rlord could bet his life that Avery had the whole build visualised in his mind already. The only thing left was actually constructing it.
And honestly that was how the entire week had passed.
D3rlord remained seated, trying to pick apart the slowly appearing construction and willing away all the unwanted and alien thoughts that seemed to accompany it.
To not appear as a lazy boyfriend though, he did try to offer to help.
And when he did, Avery told him to fuck off.
“Fuck off, I'm busy.”
Gently. Obviously.
However the place was slowly taking shape. Lush, high trees were carefully planted down. Avery one handedly cutting leaves with scissors while balancing on an unstably placed scaffolding. That was one of the few times D3rlord was glad he could predict the future and know that that precedent wouldn't end in a disaster.
Avery dragged many bags of sand and flipped them over to dug out trenches. Filled them with water and grew seaweed on the river bed. He mined out a small pond, deep enough for him to dive into.
He laid out foundations and raised pristine white walls which accompanied the spruce floor. He took extra time carpentering, chiselling long logs into masterfully crafted pews. He chose red carpets which would hopefully remind him of someone nice and pleasant.
He planted forget-me-nots outside the church, making sure the earth underneath them was fertile so they would last long.
And when he walked next to D3rlord who was hiding in the shade, he threw an empty book into his lap. With no comment he started digging out a place for a stone grave a couple steps away.
“What's this?” D3rlord asked, confused, holding the book in his hand.
“Write me a message,” Avery replied, curt and demanding.
“What… message?”
“Imagine… that I am lost, or you are lost. And we stumble upon that book,” Avery pointed at him, using the arm that had already healed over the span of the past couple of days, “Write something calming, or encouraging, or motivating. Something that we would like to hear.”
“And where will you place it?”
“On the altar. In the church. It's a visible place, we will notice it.”
“They,” D3rlord corrected him.
Avery stopped digging. He exhaled loudly, closing his eyes and nodding faintly.
“They will stumble upon it.”
And he continued digging.
D3rlord wordlessly took out a quill from his inventory and placed it on the first page.
You are safe here
He began writing.
By the end, the message reached three pages.
He closed his eye and looked into the future. The remaining eight would not be written by him.
When he gave the book back to Avery, he told him not to open it. The other man complied without any questioning.
He stood in the threshold of the church as he watched Avery place the book in place. The final touch.
His boyfriend carefully walked backwards from the altar, as if he was afraid the entire building was about to fall like a stack of cards.
Once he finally came close enough, D3rlord held him by the waist, looking over the church together.
“Do you think that this place will calm someone down?” Avery asked, leaning into his side.
“That was your goal?” D3rlord murmured and right after he pressed a kiss onto his partner's temple.
“Yeah, it calms me down. I would stay here forever if I could.”
D3rlord felt himself tense. The unwanted whisper of the future telling him that yes, Avery would stay there forever.
He thought for a while how to respond to that.
“Can I… tell you something?” He looked at his boyfriend from the corner of his eye.
“Sure?”
D3rlord turned him around, making Avery face him. He held him tightly by the shoulders, making sure that his words would carry the weight of what he tried to convey. He knew that in the far away future, they would play a key part, then again, Avery didn't have to know that yet.
“You are real. You are special. Remember who you are.”
Avery chuckled, blushing lightly. Not realising how important those words would someday be.
“Who am I? I think I'm yours,” he answered easily, flashing a smile.
D3rlord replied with a smile of his own.
“That you are.”
And soon, they started walking away from the church, knowing that it wasn't meant for them, but for someone else.