Helen's insanity

It hits Avery around two months after they leave the DMS facility. Which, doesn't seem like a lot of time; and it wasn't, really. They mostly took time to recover, to make the one-story house they got as home-ly as possible, to establish some sort of routine.

(Avery had read some books on psychology. He willingly read something more complicated than articles on proper soil, and nutrition, and sun exposure, and... Anyways, it was more complicated than plants, Minecraft or anything else he had read. All for one man.)

They went out regularly (or as regularly as Derek's state allowed) to the park, to walk around and even have picnics. Sometimes they would visit a nice cafe and have lunch or early dinner. Often it ended in a visit to the local flower shop, both to look at new potted plants and to buy 'surprise' bouquets.

All of that to say, Avery didn't register that their routine wasn't as regular to other people. It was as he was scrolling YouTube shorts that he saw a video about a romantic date a woman had that was organized by her girlfriend. It was very sweet, don't get Avery wrong; it had nice food, good surprises and it was in a very nice park. Yet, Avery thought that it was not entirely special. They had something like this pretty often, after all, Derek and him.

However, this exact thought lead to another one, completely random and out of the blue. Had they ever had a real date? They had certainly done date-like activities, like those picnics and quiet moments in their house. Yet, they never went on an official date. And it was bothering Avery more than he thought it would.

With those thought, comes another question. How to invite Derek on a date without going into an anxiety-induced tangent or making the words sound too weird or...

"What are you thinking so hard about, Aves?"

The question pulls him out of his (more panicked than he preferred them) musings. It also makes him jump a little and stutter through the response.

"What, what makes you think I am thinking about something? I mean, I am always thinking, but-"

"Aves, Avery. You were silent in a way that tells me you were thing about something important for you. What was it?"

"I was not! Well, maybe I was a little silent. And it's not that important. Well, it is to me," he notices the 'look' Derek is giving him (or at least his general direction based on where his voice comes from) and decides to back track. "Right. I watched that one short with a cute date, but it's not what bothered me."

"Then what did?"

"We never really... went on an official date. And we never had an official first date," Avery tells Derek uncertainly. "So I thought... Well. Derek."

Derek looks 'at' Avery, heart pounding in his chest. He feels as Avery takes one of his hands, gently squeezing it.

"Would you like to go on our first official date with me?"

A nervous breath leaves Derek, but a small smile comes in its place.

"Yeah, of course. I would love to."

And so, a few days later, on a nice Saturday afternoon both Avery and Derek dress up slightly nicer, get in their car and drive to the beach. Thankfully, Derek's wheelchair was sturdy and proved to be quite adequate on sand.

When it was time for dinner, they went to a near-by restaurant. Avery had been gallant and suave with Derek, who under all the attention from his lovely boyfriend couldn't make the blush go away even for a second. As their dinner ended, both took some time to walk to the car and enjoy the sounds of waves crashing into the beach.

At home, the nice evening gave way into a nice long bath with scented candles and relaxing music. As night came, both men went to bed very pleased with how their first date went. Derek was properly pampered and treated, and Avery has satisfied his need to care and to show his devotion to his lover.

Derek was supposed to leave around an hour ago. Well, he isn't on any strict schedule for this, but the sooner he leaves the better. He already postponed his Flight for a week. However, even this time spent in the nest, cuddling with his boyfriend doesn't make his temporary departure any less difficult.

Avery has spent the last hour hugging him in front of his tree house and near the river. His grip on him is desperate and he keeps whispering sweet things and promises and pleading words to him. He would never force him to stay, but it doesn't mean he likes it. In fact, Avery hates that they need to say 'goodbye' to each other for almost half a year. Less, maybe 4 months since the area they live in is pretty warm in early spring and late autumn.

Derek waits another fifteen minutes for Avery's sake. Then, gently peels the selkie off of himself and cradles his face in his clawed hands.

"Avery, dear, you know I need to do this."

"I know, I know. I just hate it as well. I wish we didn't have to be apart for so long."

"Yes, I hate it as well, sweetheart."

Derek bows to Avery's height, placing a kiss on his forehead with infinite tenderness.

"I will be back in spring, love. I promise."

"Yeah, of course. I will be waiting."

Derek smiles at his boyfriend, softly caressing his face one last time and then stepping back. With a few powerful flaps of his wings, Derlord rises into the air and flies. Flies to a warmer place for the next 4 months. Months that will be like eternity for two lovers, despite them going through this for the second time during their time together. However, this is the first time as a couple, so it was doubly torturous.

They have patience. And they will eagerly await their reunion.

For Avery, 'good' in 'goodbye' is the fact that he knows that Derek will return. Derek will return to him, for him.

For Derek, 'good' in 'goodbye' is the sweet reunion. When Avery would (most likely) kiss his face and cuddle him for days on end.

It was early into the evening when Derek heard the loud splash of water from the river near his nest on the big dark oak tree. He shook out the last dregs of his sleep with the shake of his wings. He slowly made his way to the entrance into his nest, carefully hidden by a leaf cover. Lifting it out of the way, he confirms what he suspected: he was visited once more by, who he calls reluctantly-fondly, a friend, Avery.

The selkie just got out of the water and was energetically waving his hand at him. He seems to be doing better at standing on two human (as far as slime comes to being ‘human’) legs than he was a couple of months ago when he first visited him. In his excitement to get close to Derlord and the tree his nest was in, Avery tripped over his feet and the cloak that was left of his transformation. Better is not perfect, after all. It was only luck and experience that prevented him from eating the dirt. As it is, the scene was getting frightfully familiar to the harpy (it was dangerous, to become close to anyone; what if the cult found him, after all this time? he didn’t want to lose someone again).

With a tired sigh, Derek flew himself to the ground in front of Avery. The selkie stopped abruptly and nearly fallen again, but this time had two strong wings to catch him.

“Careful, Aves.”

“Yeah, sorry, thanks!”

“It’s fine.”

The last phrase was said with a slight chuckle. Derlord flapped his wings a couple of times after Avery righted himself on his feet. He was still smiling that smile that said ‘I am happy to be near you, you brighten up my day and I adore you’. It made Derek feel incredibly honoured to be on the receiving side of one, although he would never admit that to Avery (not in a while; so embarrassed to have fallen so quickly and deeply for a man he knew so little; in the future, he wouldn’t hold himself back from proclaiming his devotion to his beloved). When the selkie looked about ready to vibrate about of his second skin, Derlord sighed again fondly with a shake of his head.

“Ready to go up?”

“Yeah! I have so much to tell you about! There is that new coral reef that I found that looks so good, and there’s so many different fish- fishes? Anyways, they are so colourful!”

“Sounds great. Tell me more when we are more comfortable.”

After this short warning, Derlord took off into the air and swooped down to lift Avery up. It had gotten easier with time, but his coat proves to be quite the challenge to the owl harpy. Still, he is nothing if not stubborn, so eventually the pair made their way to the big branch and the entrance into the nest. Derlord put Avery down on his feet, making sure the selkie wouldn’t fall down, and landed near him. They made their way into the hollow and into the nest (it startled him sometimes, how easy it was, letting Avery inside such a private part of his life; it also felt natural already).

They settled in the nest and almost immediately Avery launched into his (definitely over-dramatic) recollection of the recent adventures, featuring his herd of sunfish, various coral reef, close encounters with orcas and much more. Derek listened to him with little interruptions (and one big, to fly around and hunt; he was still a nocturne harpy). All the while, he would preen himself or drape his wings over Avery to hide him from the cold (so what if he had that heavy coat on? it was all he had).

As the night fell more, Avery’s words became more tired and slurred, so Derlord decided to finish their discussion in favour of sleep. He dragged Avery closer to himself and started to rumble something calming. It worked as it always did, so in a matter of minutes both of them were asleep in the nest.

***

In another house, this time properly on land, another pair of friends were gossiping over tea.

“I’m telling you, Helsie, he is so down bad for him! He is just so oblivious he can’t understand his own feelings.”

To the complining voice, a coy one replied.

“Even if so, isn’t it much more entertaining to watch them fumble like this?”

“For you, maybe. I have to listen to him talk about his ‘friend’! It’s all ‘Derlord this’, ‘Derlord that’. It’s sickening, they are sickening.”

“Hm, that is a challenging predicament. Ah, young love, such a wonderful thing.”

The doe centaur rolled her eyes at her friend. The cat centaur’s grin only grew bigger at the gesture.

“You act like you are that much older! You are, like, their age, right?”

Helen only chuckled and hid her mischievous grin into the cup.

“Perhaps I am, Navy, perhaps I am not. Don’t you know that it’s rude to ask a lady about her age?”

It happened a couple of weeks after they left the facility. They were watching something on TV I the living room, some brain-numbing sitcom that was predictable enough that Avery called multiple "plot twist". Derek was laying on him in a perfect imitation of a weighted blanket or an overgrown cat. His head was positioned right over his heart, listening to its steady, reassuring beat.

Avery's hand was carding through his hair, which was still in the process of being repaired and healing. There were significantly less knots and bald/short spots. He had a distinct feeling if Derek could, he would purr like a cat. Although, thinking about hair had made him remember something he wanted to discuss.

"Hey, sweetheart. Do you think you need a haircut?"

Derek made a questioning sound from where he was lying, not even trying to get up. He didn't sound upset, so Avery took it as I sign to continue.

"I just thought, it's got a lot of length and it's a probably a good idea to cut some off to let it grow more healthy, you know. It's only of you want! I mean, I can cut it pretty good, but you know that probably, so..."

Derek just rumbled something to stop his word-vomit. Again, he didn't sound upset at Avery, so it was as good a sign as any.

"It's fine, Aves. And it's probably is a good idea. We can do this whenever."

Before Avery can suggest another thing he was thinking about, Derek spoke up again.

"Yes, you can braid it, too. You don't have to ask me that."

"Oh, okay. I will make sure it's not a tight braid. You know, so not to give you a bigger headache."

"I know you will. Thank you, Avery."

"Of course. I am happy to help, Derek."

***

That is how they ended up a few days later, Derek's newly cut hair being gently combed by Avery. There were a couple special combs, hair ties and clips, as well as decorative flowers. Some of them resembled poppies, some daisies and a few forget-me-nots as well.

The braid ended up being a little loose, but not at risk suddenly being undone. The flowers could be easily taken out and put back in. Most of all, Derek looked good like that, in Avery's humble opinion. Which he made the man knew, quite vocally and physically by complimenting him and kissing anywhere he could reach him.

Avery awoke from his observation of Derek with the sound of the door being shut. He didn't take his hands off of his face and didn't turn away from it. He just became more aware; aware of the stubble tickling his palms, of the shared quiet breaths between them both, of the downright horrified stare Derek was giving him. Well, Avery couldn’t exactly fault him for that last one. He did sign up for a government-sponsored experimentation, if he understood what little information Dr. Harris has given him. So the shock was pretty warranted.

However, Avery didn’t care. Whatever comes, he would still be here for Derek. For the only person who gave a single shit about him. For now, he needs to reassure the poor man that everything will be alright, even if not immediately.

Avery bows closer to Derek’s face, at which the latter made an alarmed sound. Disregarding that, Avery finished his descent and pressed his lips gently to Der’s forehead. The man became as still as a statue at the first contact but melted into it a moment later.

“It will be okay, Derek, I promise.”

The man hasn’t answered anything aside from shaking his head. Avery wasn’t upset with him. He could only imagine the horror that is housing an entity, or what remains of it, in your head. So he just kisses his temple and sits down next to him, one arm coming up in an embrace. Avery pulls his (saviour, companion, other half) friend onto the bed proper and makes him lie down.

Derek follows gentle guiding hands until he is lying on the bed, Avery sitting at the other end of the bed with Der’s legs in his lap. His hands pet him gently, squeezing his shins in a soothing rhythm.

“You can worry after you rest a bit. You look exhausted. Hm, if I remember it right it might be night as well. So, sleep! I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”

Derek shook his head again, but against his wishes, his exhausted mind began to slip. At the edges of his hearing, Avery could be heard humming a song, resembling a lullaby. Der’s eyes closed and slowly he fell into a fitful sleep. Some time later, his (fated, beloved, most precious) friend had fallen asleep as well.

***

It was a couple of hours later when Avery, from where he slumped against the wall, was woken up from his sleep by a terrified and slightly enraged scream and a knee to his stomach. He had to take a couple seconds to get over a coughing fit the hit send him into. However, when he did, Avery realized that Derek was, more than likely, having a nightmare or a hallucination. Judging from the open wide eyes and lack of comprehension or understanding in them (as much as someone can see it in his eyes, the way they are), it was the latter.

“Derek! Wake up, it’s fine! It’s me, Avery, you’re safe!”

His words have only gained a more violent reaction. For the lack of mobility in arms, Derek had made up in how wildly he was swinging his feet and kicking at Avery. With a grunt from another hit (this time his ribs; even in his weakened state, Derek hit quite hard), it was decided to take a more direct course of action. It may scare Der a bit more, but at least it will prevent further injury (to both of them; it couldn’t be good to Derek to be moving like that).

So, decision made, Avery fluidly got from under Derek and pinned his legs by sitting on them. When the incoherent man processed this, he tried to wiggle from under him.

“No, NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! You aren’t him, you CAN’T be him! He isn’t here!”

Avery catches his own whimper before it can escape him. It hurt, seeing a man who bravely opposed a god, to be reduced to such a state. Another hit near his more sensitive parts made him move again. Avery, in absence of any other choice, laid his full body on Derek’s. His legs were pinning down Der’s own, his hands clutching at the bed near the man’s head.

“It is me, Derek. I am here. You are here too. No one else. Just us two. I promise.”

His words were not heard, or at least weren’t understood or trusted. Derek was still trying to escape by throwing Avery off of him, but the younger man persisted. His head was positioned by Derek’s, so he taken to whispering soft nothings and promises into his ear.

However, it also positioned Derek’s head near his shoulder. So it was not completely out of the blue when the pinned man bit him, hard. Avery was caught off guard and let out a scream that he did his best to smother to not alarm the man. He didn’t allow himself to be thrown off, still clutching the sheets and bed, continuing to talk into Derek’s ear.

It took a better part of half an hour for Derek to come to himself. There was a taste of blood in his mouth. Despite this, nothing on him hurt enough to suggest that it was his. But then whose was it? Then, he processed the warm weight on himself, the whispers in his ears that didn’t hurt, another heartbeat against his own, the smell of sweat and cheap shampoo. It hit him then, that it was Avery. Avery, who was lying on him, who was whispering sweet things to him, who was here. Avery, who he hurt.

It was like he was punched in the gut (You kicked him. Do you not remember, pawn? You hurt him like so.) with the whimper that crawled out of his throat. It made Avery shush him like a hurt animal. He nuzzled his shoulder shortly and started whispering again (his throat is dry. he should have some water; it will hurt more if he doesn’t).

“You’re okay, it’s okay. You are safe, I am safe. We will be okay.”

It ripped another whimper out of Derek, who had tears in his eyes. It hurt almost physically, to realize how he hurt Avery, even unconsciously. He Knew intimately that there was a dull ache in his ribs, signifying a serious bruise; some nausea from the kick in the stomach; and a bleeding, deeply bruised shoulder that will ache for some couple of weeks.

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Are you back with me, Derek? Do you think you can talk to me or at least nod your head?”

In his desire to not disappoint or scare his only companion, Derek slowly nods his head. The headache, that he felt building up, flared as quickly as it left under the careful ministrations of other’s hands. One hand was in his hair, scratching at his scalp in deeply soothing motions, and the other was massaging his neck to dispel any stiffness and help against the migraine.

“Okay, that’s great. You are doing great. Don’t worry about anything, it’s fine. I’ll take care of everything, you just stay calm and relaxed.”

Derek was sitting in the bathtub, warm water reaching his torso. He was hugging his knees to his chest. There were hands in his hair, gently carding through it and massaging his head. He could feel all the tension from last night leave his body. Even as soapy water run down his back and sides, lightly burning on the scratches he made, he felt more relaxed by the minute.

It probably helped that Avery hadn't stopped talking for a second. His voice was soft as he told Derek of their plans for today, which included a short grocery run, a picnic in the park and a visit to the book store. The one they frequented was said to have a new collection coming. Despite Derek not having any vision and basically possessing the Knowledge of the entire Universe at his fingertips, he still, for a reason that evades Avery, likes to listen to him read it out loud. It's not like it's hard, and most of the time even entertaining. See, Avery is not a big reader; it's more to do with his need to do something at all times and trouble sitting still for long periods of time. However, something about reading a book to Derek on their couch or their big bed is making him the most patient man on Earth, even if it's a book about some guy named John going through 'regular guy' problems.

In his thoughtfulness Avery didn't notice how he has been washing Derek's hair far longer than necessary. Not like the latter didn't enjoy it, but still, it was unusual for Avery to lose himself in thought like that.

"Somethin' on your mind, Aves?"

"Oh? Oh! Nothing much, really. Just thinking how much you've changed my life for the better, is all."

Derek has no answer to this. Can't really comprehend the truthfulness of that statement. He knows, as he knows that today would be a pleasant 23 C˚ temperature with a warm breeze and sunny skies, that it is truth in Avery’s mind. However, what is missing is understanding; why would someone as amazing and kind and strong-willed as Avery stay with someone so broken, someone so foolish as to oppose an Outer Being.

“Is that so…”

Perhaps Avery heard doubt and self-hatred in that short sentence. He didn’t say anything immediately, simply washing the shampoo out of Derek’s hair patiently. When all the soapy water ran down, he turned water off and gently took a hold of Derek’s shoulders. Instead of asking him to turn or anything like this, Avery bowed down and kissed him gently on a temple. His lips were slightly dry (he was supposed to drink at least 2 cups of water by now; he is so bad at remembering such things). What he doesn’t feel is a smile against his stubble from where the lips moved while he was thinking and, unconsciously, mumbling.

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons you are so good for me; you make sure I take care of myself, and I take care for you.”

Derek’s cheeks dust with a pink of the flush, merging with the flush from the heat of the bath. He slowly raises his shaking hand to Avery’s head and cradles it gently, sweeping through his messy curls. He almost catches a knot, but swiftly evades it. Scratching a little at his scalp, he lowers his hand and they both return to their initial positions, Avery at his back and reaching for a conditioner.

“Almost done, poppy. Then we can get the picnic basket ready and do some chores and but new books.”

“We don’t have to. You know that I…”

“Yeah, sure. But I want to. So?”

“… I heard they will have a new romance collection coming in.”

“Awww, so sweet, lily.”

“Shut.”

Avery’s laugh was drowned out by the water.

It has been only a week since he lost him. It has been a week since he found the footage, and his letter. It has also been a week since they took it away. He tries to silence the voice that tells him that he doesn't deserve to have even those scraps of a man that sacrificed himself just so Avery could live.

In one day he lost a person he never knew he needed and one of the only threads to him. At least, he still has his own footage. It is a testament to how delusional desperate he feels, that he lost count of how many times he watched it. He doesn't watch the Church part. It makes his brain go quiet in an unpleasant way.

He is pretty sure he is still going through those stages of grief that people talk about. Only he experiences almost all of them in one day. At one point in the day he feels so sad all he does is cry (even if there is no tears left, he just dry-heaves almost to the point of throwing up). Then he would be calm, going about the apartment in useless, mind-numbing motion. In the next, he is smashing the wall with his fist or throws plates on the ground in the fit of rage. One time, he broke a vase he liked and tried to fix it, no matter how broken it was or how sharp the edges of the shards were. He is lucky he didn't need too many bandages, only a couple of band-aids.

All this to say, he was a total mess (not like he wasn't before. It's just he is worse now). He was just going through the vaguely familiar routine of sweeping his apartment, when he felt his head throb with pain and dizzy with something.

It took only a couple of minutes for Avery to sit down at the couch and pass out. He had not seen men open his locked door, or sweep through his apartment, or delete the footage from his computer. Avery didn't feel himself being picked up and carried to the dark car.

Avery became aware in some sort of therapist office. At least, that's what the room he woke up in had reminded him of. Aside from Avery, there was a man sitting at the big light-wood table, dressed in the doctors coat, not lessening the feeling of being at therapist's office.

"Hello, Avery. I hope you rested well," he said mildly, his eyes fixed on Avery, not betraying any emotion. "My name is Dr. Harris, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, I guess it's a pleasure for me too, but where..."

"Ah, yes, you must be wondering where are you. It's simple, you are at one of the DMS Facilities, housing many... unusual subjects," his eyes travelled to the door behind Avery. "You are here because you have an opportunity to help us with one of our projects. It is of most importance."

"What? What project? What sort of help?" Avery was very confused. How could he (talentless, stupid, lonely, annoying-) help some, if he were to believe, government organization. It just didn't make any sense.

"Now, now, Avery. All will be explained in due time. As for what sort of help... Well, you see, we recently came into possession of a man with some very interesting capabilities. But he refuses to cooperate," Dr. Harris said the word 'cooperate' as if it tasted wrong on his tongue. "After some trial and error, we deducted that you can be a... key, of sort. To help us get him to cooperate."

Avery blinks slowly at the man. His lack of sleep (watching his footage over and over over and-) catching up to him slowly. He nods and tilts his head. "Who is it that you need... convincing? And how do I play into it?"

"Well, you might have heard his name. Derek."

***

He follows them down some corridors, not really paying attention after what they told him. It was as unbelievable as the fact he was alive after the whole event with the gates. He shouldn't be. Maybe if he wasn't, Derek would still be here. He deserves it more than Avery does.

In his thoughtful mood, he doesn't notice the stop in front of an unassuming door. He doesn't notice it opening or the guards pulling him inside. He does, however, notice the man.

"Derek?"

The name tumbles through his lips ungracefully, unnaturally, no matter the amount of times he cried it out in pain over the last week.

"Ave-Avery?"

Hearing his name, from who could only be Derek, even as rough as it is, is a blessing. He moves without a second thought, breaching the distance between himself and Derlord.

He can't help himself, he stares at the man he ached to see so much. He is both different from how he imagined him and exactly how he thought about him. His stubble is beautifully uncared-for, cheeks sunken from stress and malnourishment (not like Avery has much to say in this department either) and his eyes... Oh, his eyes.

They are perhaps the most gorgeous and devastating feature on Derek's face. He doesn't stop himself from cradling it in his hands when it feels like Der is about to hide himself in his long hair. He swipes under those captivating eyes, the yellow in them not even nauseating as it usually is.

He hears vaguely how DMS workers say something and leave. He doesn't care. He doesn't care that he is somewhere unknown, doesn't care that he is stuck there. He certainly doesn't care that he metaphorically signed his soul away to the Devil (the government). It all lead him here. To Derek.