(A/N: 'tas been a long while. I hope you all enjoy this though, regardless. Ily all. I'm currently editing this book to make it consistent again, so feel free to reread the new edited chapters when they're done :-) ~ Squeaks)

Sky's POV

"Ian, catch!" "Gah- what?!" SSundee staggered backwards, having only just managed to grab the beer bottle I'd thrown to him from across the room, his blue, yet hauntingly crooked, eyes widened behind their sunglasses. He raised it to the light and studied it, grinning when he did so. "Ah, alcohol. The truest recipe for disaster." I chuckled, tucking my amulet into my jacket front. "Coming from the person who has an insane and murderous alter ego." Ian rolled his eyes and popped the cap off the bottle. "And getting me drunk along with him would be beneficial, how?" I strode across the room to my friend and grasped his shoulder warmly, holding my own beverage in my other hand. "We both need to unwind. I'm only just adjusting to life without Alesa, and you've had a hellish 5 years, Ian. I know you didn't want to come back, and I knew you'd be safer away from us and your past life...but, I am glad to have you around again. I...I missed you, buddy. I'd also like to thank you for staying with me that night when she broke up with me." Ian looked away, sheepishly. "Well, you looked after me too." "Yeah, I did! Who would leave their mate in such a state as you were in? You never did tell me how you ended up like that, covered in vomit and looking like you'd been to hell and back."

"Hell is already my life." Ian replied, dryly. I gave him a sympathetic smile, and clinked our bottles together. "Then you definitely deserve this night off more than I do. I can't remember the last time we got drunk together, and I think that's sad." Ian's shoulders finally dropped into a more relaxed state, and if I pretended his sunglasses weren't' hiding what they were, I could believe things were as they were before Derp destroyed them all, for us. I raised my beer bottle, and beamed at my friend, the strongest warrior that I had ever seen, or had the honour to have befriended. "To a better future." Ian hesitated, almost taken aback, as if I had hit upon something on his mind, with my bold, optimistic statement. Then, he smiled back, and touched his bottle to mine, "To a better future, Sky."

***

I rolled onto my side on the sofa, squinting at Ian from across the room, giggling at the post-it note I had stuck to his forehead. I had dubbed the game, Forehead Detective, to our immense amusement. Needless to say, quite a few hours had passed since we had consumed our first drink, and god, we were drunk. My friend pulled a thinking face, dropping his chin into his right hand, a half empty beer clasped in the other. "Uhh...am, I, an animal?" I tried to hold back a splutter of laughter. "N-nope." Ian laughed in return. "Okay, am...I...a colour?" I had to hold my aching sides from laughter. This would not be nearly as funny normally, but we were certainly far more inebriated than normally. "N-nope!" Ian grinned, taking another gulp of beer before answering. It took more drinks to get him drunk than it did me, and he was slightly more sober, but was entertaining me nonetheless. "Okay...hmm, a person?" I clapped, pointing at him in mock seriousness.

"Yes! Yes, you are, my good sir!" Ian snorted, holding his face in his hand to stifle his stupid giggles. "O-okay, hm, am I famous?" I paused. Honestly, before Derp forced himself back into Ian's life, we were kinda famous. We were youtubers. People know our names. We had influence in the nation of Minecraftia. However, now he was famous for different reasons to me. The dead hero who murdered himself to rid the world of his insane and murderous alter ego. Of course, some people had seen Derp over the years since then, and rumours had spread, but we had made sure they were all dismissed as hoaxes, that Derp remained nothing more than a dying urban legend. Ty and I had agreed a few months ago that the police's suspicions about him must be squandered. We told all authorities who had to know that Ty had silenced him himself, and Ty had got a promotion out of it. We were obviously racked with guilt, but the important thing was that our friend was safe...even if he had to remain housebound, so as to avoid the capital punishment that was destined for him if he was ever found.

"Yes, yes you are!" Ian sat back in his armchair, long, lanky legs crossed over one another lazily, and pushed his shades up his nose a little more. "Hm...am, I...living?" I nodded again, trying to keep a straight face now. Ian seemed to find my attempts at doing that 10x funnier than my laughing, and it was a litle while before he could compose himself again. "R-right, right... Am I, Notch?" I cheered snd clapped, laughing as I did so. "Yes, yes you are! The king of Minecraftia!" Ian put his beer down and proceeded to stand up to his full height, raising his arms and pretending to do a glorious, slow turn on the spot to take in his adoring fans. I wheezed, falling to my knees from the sofa and pretending to bow down to the floor in a worshipping position. "My liege! My liege!" Ian struggled for breath, creasing over to catch it. "Oh, oh my god- beautiful. Okay, Sky, your turn." He grinned cheekily at me. "The king orders it!" I managed to haul myself back onto the sofa, chuckling breathlessly. "Al-alright, alright! Get me a post it note then, Notchdee." Ian shook his head, wiping tears away from under his shades. "O-okay, oh man, that was too good. Yeah, sure."

He sat back down opposite me and took a post it note, and a pencil, scribbling down a messy scrawl of something or other. It briefly crossed my mind that his handwriting had disintegrated hugely since he had disappeared, since he'd had real no reason to write for 4+ years. Then again, his writing was always messy and half-arsed. He studied what he'd written, then sighed. "I can't see a thing in this light." He reached up and took his sunglasses off, then squinted at the paper. I stiffened, unable to tear my own eyes away from the crooked ones on his face. It was the cruelest thing Derp could ever have done to Ian, and it made my blood boil, whilst simultaneously racking me with pangs of sadness, to see it again. A few seconds passed, then Ian nodded, satisifed, and places the shades back on again. Shamefully, I pushed away a fleeting sense of relief as he did so. Ian got to his feet and strode over to me, leaning down to my sitting-down height to stick it the note to my forehead.

I giggled as he stuck his tongue out, the levels of alcohol in his bloodstream causing his focus to struggle and falter. I looked at his face, studying it whilst he was up close. I could just glimpse the shadows and creases under his shades, but there were also laughter lines at the far corners of them, stretching out from his eyes. His lips were chapped, as if he'd been stress-biting them, but his facial hair looked soft and well groomed, as though he'd taken time to look after himself more recently. I was glad of that. Ian stepped back, admiring his handiwork, then chuckled to himself. "Okay, shoot." As he returned to his seat, I began to guess what he'd written. "Hm...am, I...an animal?" "Ah, nope." Somewhere in the house, the clock struck twelve. A bat chirped outside of the living room window, snd the fireplace spat out an aggressive spark. "Am...I a person?" "Uh, no." The flames reflected upon his face and sunglasses, and his faint smile, that played around his features.

"Am I, an object?" Ian raised a hand and did a so-so action. "Uh, sorta. Think, more an event." I groaned. "Trust you to take a fun game and make it incredibly cryptic." He laughed and I grinned. "Hm...a christening?" "Nope." "A wedding?" For a second, I thought I saw his fingers twitch. "N-no." I remembered how Derp had murdered Ian's ex-wife Maddie, and I realised how the flames on his face made his expression look haunted. I stuttered for my next guess. "U-uh...a birth?" Silence. Ian's shoulders dropped, and he picked up his beer to finish it, in a few desperate gulps, before placing it back down aside on a nearby table.

"...you're, abandonment."

I blinked, confused. "That's not very, funny." My friend looked as though he'd just lost a very long, tedious battle. "That's because, it's not." I paused, my drunk brain fumbling for thoughts. Ian sighed. "I-I'm sorry, Sky. I just...remembered something. Something I was trying to drink about to forget. I didn't mean to ruin the fun." I leaned forward, my stomach growing cold. "What is it? D'you...d'you wanna tell me?" His shades slid down and for a second I glimpsed his wide, staring eyes, crooked and glistening with a sort of wild desperation. "I...I don't know...I just...I gotta tell someone, I think. It's...it's just getting too much to bear alone." His voice was a hoarse, groaning sort of a whisper, and it reminded me of the certain voice of someone else.

I felt sick from it.

"I-I'm here...bud."

Ian seemed to shake with relief, like a leaf, with a soft breeze passing through it.

"Th-thank you, Sky."

As the clock hands ticked on past midnight, and we reached the witching hours of the night, my friend of nearly 10 years proceeded to tell me one of the most extraordinary stories I had ever heard, and will ever hear, in my life.

And all I can say, is that...it was the most haunting and terrifying thing to me, because, oh god...it made sense.
It all, made sense.