Chapter Text
Rachel had really gone all-out this time, Charlie thought.
He pushed himself up onto one arm, surprised that he hadn’t broken any bones in the fall, to look at the people in front of him better.
Perfect. Apparently Rachel had thrown him - in the literal sense - into Minecraft.
In the past.
In the fucking QSMP.
Charlie focused on the pair in front of him, blinking away the blurriness as if he’d only just woken up.
He could already tell who they were, and paired with the sinking feeling in his gut what Rachel was trying to do.
At least she hadn’t wiped his memory this time!
Wow, that was a low bar.
Anyways, bug plans aside. The man who had asked if he was ‘Slime’ looked simply like a human version of Mariana’s Minecraft skin.
He wore a yellow jumpsuit that had at least a dozen patches sewn onto it, with crimson shoes and gloves, round glasses resting on his nose below a mess of brown hair. He was also, noticeably, holding a glowing, blue sword. Exactly how Charlie has seen in people’s drawings of him - but he still looked like Mariana.
What was more surprising was the smaller figure beside Mariana.
Juanaflippa was staring warily at Charlie, wearing an oversized t-shirt, printed with two and a half red hearts and a trans pin badge by the neck, over a long-sleeved green jumper, with a yellow skirt and red boots.
Charlie pushed himself up so he was sitting, causing Mariana - Was this still Mariana? - to point his sword closer to his face.
“Woah, already got enough slices on my face for now.” Charlie said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Mariana raised his eyebrows, though he did retract the blade a few inches. “What.. are they from?”
“Long story. Please tell me I’m not where I think I am.”
This time, Flippa raised a sign from thin air that read: ‘Youre on the QSMP!”
“Fucking great.” Charlie sighed, letting himself fall backwards.
“Woah-“ Mariana said, dashing forward. kneeling and grabbing Charlie’s shoulder before he could even hit the ground. “You look on the verge of death, but how about we hold it for now?”
Charlie just looked at him emptily, blue blood-tinted eyes meeting concerned brown.
Mariana offered a hand - just like the fake Grizz had - that Charlie took, stumbling to his feet.
They stood in a forest clearing, oak trees towering into the sky, though it just about kept them shadowed from the heat of the sun.
Where it had been night in his world, it seemed around mid-day, and the air far warmer. It was almost a relief to only be with two others, instead of the countless people Charlie had been surrounded by for god-knows-how-long.
As Mariana let go of his hand, Charlie saw something that hadn’t been there in the fake realities - a device that looked like an Apple watch with a larger screen.
He tapped the screen, which lit up, projecting a fucking hologram.
“What the fuck is this?” Charlie asked, turning over his wrist, where there was no buckle to remove the watch-hologram-contraption.
“..It’s a comm?” Mariana answered, confusion on his face. “Communicator? The things that everyone’s always had?”
Charlie looked back at the hologram, taking in the display better. It looked exactly like the Minecraft inventory, with a square showing a full-body view of himself.
Frankly, he looked like shit.
Blood completely matted his hair, running down his face into his eyes, and down his neck, staining his t-shirt.
He appeared - and felt - like he’d gone through a war.
His ‘inventory’ was empty, and as if it read his mind, the hologram closed. The screen now displayed what he assumed was his hotbar, health and hunger bars.
Ironically, the health bar was on two and a half, the hunger on 4 bars. In short, Charlie wasn’t doing too hot.
“It’s still bright, but we’re quite far from the base. Just for now, ‘cause you look on the verge of passing out, I’d advise you to come with us so you don’t die to mobs. I don’t know who you are, or why you don’t know what a comm is, or why you look almost exactly like my husband, but I won’t leave you out here to rot.” Mariana announced, pointing over his shoulder to a trail of torches leading between the trees, before turning in his heel and walking towards it.
“It can’t get worse.” Charlie decided, following Flippa and Mariana through the trees.
He decided not to think about Rachel, or any of the characters in his world, just for a while. He could ignore the pit of anxiety at the simple clicking of birds.
It couldn’t hurt to relax for a while, to be with familiar people.
Just for a few hours, all Charlie wanted was some peace.