Chapter Text
Stalking someone is surprisingly easy.
On the internet, at least.
A first name and a Minecraft account is not a lot to go off of, but Avery is going to make it work. He had to. After everything, one last attempt to save d3rlord3 is the bare minimum.
Derek. That is his name.
After conjuring up the genius revelation that Derek’s strange string of letters and numbers was a link and a string of google searches on what sites had how many characters in their links, Avery had reached Derek’s google drive.
Avery’s mind was so focused on saving the one person that had ever truly cared about him that he was entirely ignorant to the way his eyes hurt from staring at a screen for so long, the way his stomach growls from the lack of food, the way his ears ring from stress, and the way he refuses to cry.
Not yet. Because crying would be accepting that Derek was dead. And he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. Avery was still trying.
The google drive was linked to an email, dhutchins333, which made Avery more excited than he thinks that he probably should be.
Derek Hutchins. That’s a good place to start.
A simple search of the name wields no results, only random irrelevant people with instagram accounts or phds. None of them Derek.
How do people do this? Avery thinks to himself as he had already reached a dead end.
He hadn’t really processed anything yet. He just kept moving because if he stopped he would crumble. And it wasn’t time for that yet, because Derek is still alive. He has to be.
Avery swirls his cursor around the screen for a moment, desperate to keep himself going. He just needs to think. God knows he’s terrible at that.
He knows nothing about Derek besides his name, his username, and…that’s it, actually.
Well, no. Derek is smart, really smart, Avery knows that. He’s extremely resilient, stubborn, and great at puzzles. He was so caring, too.
Was?
No, is. Derek is still alive. He has to be.
Avery pulls out his phone, opening every social media he had and searching ‘d3rlord3’ and ‘derek hutchins’ and ‘dhutchins’ and every possible combination of letters and numbers that vaguely related to Derek in any way possible. No results. Derek didn’t seem like the social media type of guy, Avery supposed.
But maybe his family was.
Opening Facebook on his computer browser, Avery wished he was an old man so he would have already had an account. Who uses Facebook anymore besides middle-aged parents who don’t know how to take selfies?
Avery has never signed up for a social media account faster in his life. Every second spent typing or changing tabs feels like another breath taken away from Derek, but Avery can’t think about that. Not yet.
Eventually, Avery is logged in and searching up Derek’s name once again.
He doesn’t have an account. Of course he doesn’t. So, Avery takes to just looking up his last name and filtering by location. If Derek’s laptop ended up in a storage unit around Avery, they had to live at least somewhat close.
What comes up is a woman named Yvonne Hutchins. Based in the same city as Avery, he thinks this could be something. Clicking on her profile, he finds that she is a single mom of one.
Finally getting somewhere.
Scrolling through the backlog of Yvonne’s posts, she doesn’t post nearly as much as she used to, Avery finds various things.
Pictures of coffees, pretty sunsets, empowering images that are very Facebook, and a birthday post. For her son.
’Happy Birthday, Derek! You’ve come such a long way, baby. My smart boy, every year that passes you just impress me more and more. Love, your mama.’
The post is a couple years old. A few photos of who Avery guesses is Derek at various ages are attached. In the most recent one, he seems around 16 or 17
Avery wants so badly to take in his appearance and everything about him. His skin, his eyes, hair, smile, clothing, everything. But he can’t, not yet.
Seeing Derek alive and in person is worth missing out on some Facebook photos.
Based on the lack of activity on her account, Avery guesses that Yvonne probably won’t see a Facebook message in time.
So he whips out his trusty old stalking website. One for getting an uncomfortable amount of info about someone based on a name and city.
He looks her up and thanks every god ever, well, except for one, when her phone number is publicly available.
He calls her, having to retype the number multiple times as his hands are shaking relentlessly.
No answer. Fuck. Who picks up random unknown numbers? Avery slaps his forehead and calls himself a dumbass before deciding to text her instead.
”is this yvonne hutchins? im one of your sons friends”
Calling himself Derek’s ‘friend’ feels strange but so right. Avery braces himself for the awkwardness of the conversation he hopes will ensue and sends.
He waits for a response. It takes minutes. Minutes that feel like hours, hours that feel like days, days that feel like years.
Every second that passes by is another step Derek takes away from Avery. But he’s not dead, not yet. Because Avery is still trying.
Having nowhere else to go until Derek’s mother responds, Avery is finally left alone with just himself.
He thinks. He tries not to, but his mind consumes him.
He failed. He failed to save one of the only people to actually look out for him and help him and see him for who he was. See him as a human being with his own identity rather than a stupid lost child. Derek gave Avery everything he had been searching for in only a couple of hours and then it was so brutally taken away just as soon as it arrived.
All because of Avery.
Because of his stupidity, his naivety, his stubbornness, because of himself. He failed.
Avery tries to take in a breath but his throat catches and he can’t stop himself anymore.
He sobs. Hard. His breaths are strained yet quick. He covers his mouth with his hand, pretending like that will do anything. He’s a failure. He failed Derek. He failed.
The tears keep coming and Avery can only dig his unkept nails into his arm, leaving marks.
This was all his fault. If he had just listened to that damned book, if he dropped it and started a new world the second he found that weird mine, none of this would have happened. Derek would still be alive.
Derek was dead because of Avery.
Except, no, he wasn’t. Derek is still alive and Avery knows he is.
He hopes he is.
He wishes he was.
Avery presses harder into his arm and a small speck of blood appears.
He keeps sobbing, choking out random apologies that nobody can hear, not even himself.
What he can hear is his phone ding after what feels like a decade of sobbing and waiting.
He wastes no time in tapping on the notification.
“That’s me, yes. It is the middle of the night, why are you texting me?”
Avery hadn’t even considered the time. He was grateful Yvonne was awake. It’s New Years, most people should be awake, right?
”im worried about derek. i don’t know how to explain this but-
How do you explain to someone that their child merged with an ancient god in a video game and is now actively dying because of it?
-we were calling and i heard him start freaking out and he went silent and now he isn’t responding to anything or anyone. he’s not like this im really worried. could you check on him?”
That’ll do for now.
Yvonne’s response is a lot quicker this time.
”I’m working a night shift right now. I can’t check on him; this better not be a joke. Disturbing me at work is not okay.”
Avery breathes, thinking. Before he can start typing, Yvonne sends another message.
”What do you mean by freaking out?”
Avery cringes. He hates when people actually follow him up on his poorly planned out lies.
”he just like started screaming for a second before going silent. i don’t have his address please can you call 911 or something im so sorry”
Avery prays. He’s not religious, at all, but he prays.
“I’m choosing to believe you. I’ll call 911 and see if I can leave work. Thank you for contacting me. Your name?”
”avery, thank you so much”
The conversation ends there and the only thing Avery can do is hope she truly believed him and isn’t lying to get him off her tail.
Avery‘s tears have not adjourned but he’s calmer now. Not by a lot, but a little. His breathing is still uneasy and frantic, and he’s shaking like crazy, but he’s making progress and that’s all that matters.
Derek is alive. He has to be.
If he isn’t, then Avery has nothing.
If Avery has nothing, he’ll stop trying.
And he’s still trying.
The call comes a day later. January 1st. Happy New Year.
Avery is not woken up; he never slept. He spent all night sobbing and scratching and staring blankly at his phone and laptop, not wanting to blink as if looking at the screens would bring Derek straight to him, alive and well.
But that’s not how it works, of course.
Also, it’d be kind of embarrassing if he was still asleep, because it’s nearly 4pm. He becomes aware of how lightheaded he is, probably due to the lack of food or water or sleep or anything a human needs, really.
Avery is lying on his bed, staring straight into the obnoxiously bright light that he doesn’t know when he turned on. It flickers, and he’s reminded that he’s been needing to fix it for months.
Everytime Avery’s thoughts stray from Derek, which isn’t very often, he feels guilty. Liking thinking about something else will be the thing that kills Derek.
Because, Derek is still alive. Avery knows he is. He knows.
Avery picks at the scabs on his arm.
His phone rings. The beginning of Bring the Boys Back Home by Pink Floyd. Avery wonders what Derek’s ringtone is, what kind of music he likes.
Avery almost forgets that he’s a real person and can move and this call is real until he in fact, remembers this. He snaps up and scrambles to answer the phone, vaguely recognizing the number from the night before.
”Hello?” Avery doesn’t realize how terrible he sounds until he speaks for the first time in a while.
The voice that answers back is equally disheveled, but a lot better at keeping its composure.
”Hello, Avery. This is Yvonne, Derek’s mother.” Her voice cracks as she says her sons name.
”Oh my god-Oh my god! Is he okay? Is he okay— tell me he’s okay.” Avery feels the tears welling up again.
The silence from the other end is only a couple seconds, it’s just Yvonne taking an unsteady breath, but it feels like a decade to Avery.
He is so sure that Derek is alive because he has to be. He has to be.
But what if he’s not?
That thought breaks Avery. He tries to keep himself together, but he can barely see or feel anything. He’s lightheaded, everything he touches seems distant and hazy, his vision is blurry from crying, and his whole body aches and cries.
If Derek is dead, then Avery failed. Avery already knows he failed, but if Derek is dead, then there is no way to redeem himself. No way to make it right.
If Derek is dead, Avery deserves to be.
Derek is smart, kind, quick-witted, talented, strong, helpful, caring, every positive word Avery can think of and Avery is none of that. Avery is nothing.
Avery should be where Derek is. Dead.
”He’s okay.”
Avery breaks.
He makes a noise he didn’t know humans could make, something adjacent to a scream but without air, or a sob while being punched in the gut. He chokes and cries and his body crumples in on itself, his head and arms folding over his knees.
”Oh dear, you must’ve been so worried. He’s okay. He’s okay.”
Yvonne’s voice is soft, strong but soft, and as she repeats herself for Avery she is also talking to herself.
”Ah..” She clears her throat. She sounds like she’s trying not to cry, too. “They found him in his room at his desk. Asleep…or, unconscious. There…they won’t tell me a lot yet, but he’s alive. Asleep, but he’s…alive. I don’t know what happened.”
Avery tries to wipe his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie, but new ones keep coming and he’s just soaking his face more. He chokes out a couple words for Derek’s mother.
”Thank you-Thank you-“
Yvonne makes a noise that her phone barely picks up, and Avery can’t exactly tell what it is over his own sobs.
”Thank you. They..they said he was dying. That a bit longer and he would have-“
She inhales.
”Thank you. Avery, was it? Take a deep breath.”
She calms herself with the composure of a woman who’s spent her life prioritizing anyone but herself.
”He’s alright. My Derek is alright, okay? I’d like to meet you in person. Are you free tomorrow? Deep breaths, kid.”
Her voice reminds Avery of his own mothers. He listens to her, breathes. It doesn’t do much, but he can form a coherent sentence.
”I’m free, yes-I’m free. I-Um, can you text-text me where he’s at?” He stutters and trips over his words, biting his tongue at how incompetent he feels.
”Of course. Thank you, Avery.”
Avery hears Yvonne let out a shaky breath before she hangs up.
He stares at his phone. After a moment, it lights up with a text containing the hospital Derek is in and his room number. She says that they’re not accepting visitors right now, though.
Avery lets out another sob at that.
Derek is alive, though. And right now, that’s all that matters.
Derek is alive. Avery knew he was, and for once, Avery is right.
After taking more than an hour just to calm himself down and think clearly again, Avery texts Yvonne and sets up a time and location for them to meet up. He hopes maybe Derek will be awake and accepting visitors tomorrow, so Avery can see him as soon as possible. Maybe that’s a bit selfish. He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t care.
Derek is alive.
Derek is alive.
Somewhere, something seethes.