Talking
Marc didn’t flinch. He just stood there. Waiting. He didn’t know what to expect, but he would take it. For once in his life, he wasn’t going to put Steven in the forefront while he hid. He wouldn’t hide. He’d been hit before during fights, but that was a two-way street. This was different. He needed this. At least, in his mind, he did. If he pressed, Steven would beat him to a bloody pulp. An eye for an eye. Taking the shit that Steven had to for years. They would be even. Balanced. The scales would balance. This was the only way. He’d be too weak to continue, sure. Steven would carry on. Get back. It’d be his life and his life alone, just like it should have been. He wasn’t sure at what point during their journey he had decided it, but he was firm in his decision. If it came down between the two of them, Marc would not be the one walking out. This was how it had to be. Steven had to knock him down and keep kicking until-
Arms. Soft sweater. A heartbeat so familiar, and yet a stranger to him. A chin on his shoulder. He could barely breathe, his lungs were being crushed.
He stood unmoving, frozen in shock. He didn’t know what to do. Arms by his sides, stiff. What had Taweret said? Unbalanced souls would be frozen in sand. He was certain that was what had happened to him, because it was as if he couldn’t move a single muscle.
The apology. He should be the one apologizing, not Steven. Never Steven.
Through this entire ordeal, Marc hadn’t shed a single tear. Stony faced and stoic. Strong. He refused to show just how weak he was. He could face firm hands with a grin. But a soft embrace? He didn’t try to stop himself as his face crumpled, a rough sob wracking his body as he buried his face into Steven’s shoulder.
••••••••••
"Yeah, yep, it's okay, it's alright, let it out" Steven slowly rubbed his hand up and down Marc's back, holding him close. He'd always be there for Marc, no matter what happened, he knew that. Stood here with him now, there was no way it could ever be any different, and he felt at ease with it. For this moment, he could block out the sirens ringing in his head, for they turned to white noise as his attention was focused on Marc and Marc alone.
Nothing else mattered whilst Marc was like this, nothing else at all. That was the simplicity of it, and perhaps only served to prove Marc correct. Whether Steven was ready to recognise it or not, his sole purpose was simply to be there, nothing more. "You'll feel better in a minute, I promise mate, it's done now, we'll go back in a sec"
•••••••••••
For the first time since the Shiva, Marc let his barriers down completely, letting tears fall freely as he sobbed into Steven’s shoulder. The entire time Steven had known him, he’d always been the tough one. No nonsense. Work-oriented. Cold. Angry. Violent. Dangerous.
Now.....the truth was finally coming out.
He had been forced to grow up way too quickly, and that had left him incredibly small. Alone. Scared. A part of him was still stuck in that cave, drowning alongside his brother. Now, that water overflowed, pouring out of his eyes.
It was one thing to be able to retreat into yourself when dealing with these emotions. But having someone there to physically comfort you? Totally different. It broke him down further, knowing what he had been missing. He couldn’t retreat. He couldn’t run away. He just had to live in it, and experience it fully. That was okay.
••••••••••
He wasn't quite sure what to say, how to act. He'd never seen Marc like this before, he'd always been so unbreakable. Obviously it had become clear that he had been through a lot, there was no denying that, but this was different. This felt raw and uncontrolled in a way he wasn't really expecting nor was ready for. It was almost a relief, to know that he was human inside, that he couldn't keep it all pent up inside forever. Just like everyone else. It only meant that Marc was human. That Marc was normal, and right now, normal was something Steven couldn't get enough of.
"You've been holding that in for a while huh? At least it's out now, better out than in." He patted Marc's back "Now you remember, you don't deserve any of what happened to you, yeah? Whatever mum did, you didn't deserve, I promise you that. It's not your fault, you hear me? You say you were selfish and all, but I don't think that's true. Everything you've done, you've done for someone else, how can that be selfish? Your intentions have been good, so what's there to argue, ya know? You're a good guy Marc. A bit of a dick sometimes, but you're a good guy."
•••••••••
Marc nodded slightly, finally hugging Steven back, clutching to the back of his sweater like a lifeline. Like if he let go, he’d fall into a chasm.
“You- no- I’m not. I’m not a good person I’m- I’m not.” Marc let his words tumble out, his vocal pattern more similar to Steven’s than it had ever been. He was always so concise and sharp. Now he just let it flow, as stilted and choked with sobs as it was. “I just hurt people...that’s all I'm good for y’know- I just. I take good things and I ruin them. I’m not good. I’m- I was a bad kid and I’m a bad person, and I deserve more than what I got. I don’t deserve the good that’s in my life.” He let out another sob, eyes squeezing shut as he hiccuped. “I tried to divorce Layla because she-because she should have someone better. Someone like you- I don’t deserve you because- because you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not and that’s horrible for you, I’m so sorry- I’m an asshole. I’m not a good guy. You should hate me right now- I’m sorry for making you punch me, I just- I just needed to feel like I was getting punished for this, and- and I didn’t feel like punching the wall until my hand broke again, and- god I’m sorry that I said all those things about you, I was just trying to get you upset enough that you hit me- you’re- you’re so much more than an imaginary friend and I’m sorry- I’m sorry...I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorryI’msorryI’m-“
•••••••••
Steven could barely hear Marc's voice in there. All this time he'd been wondering exactly what his- their mum had done that was so bad. Now he saw. This. This is what she had done. She had forged this herself. An inner demon of her own creation. It was her words in his mouth and it was horrifying. This was the effect she had on Marc, and suddenly Steven couldn't stand her for it.
He pulled away slightly, for the sole purpose of being able to look Marc in the eyes as he spoke. Steven placed his hands firmly on his shoulders, not breaking eye contact for a second. "You're wrong. You're completely wrong, Marc, because that's not you talking, is it? That's the lie mum told you all those years ago. She made you believe all that horrible stuff to try and make herself feel better for not doing her job. It was her fault, that accident, not yours, she just couldn't accept that, so she blamed you. That's what happened. Now don't go believing the words of liars like that, because look where it’s gotten you. You're good for so much more than hurting people, the only reason you keep doing it is because you don’t believe that. You don't need to stay in that cave Marc, you can't let that define you forever- some accident that happened whilst you were an innocent little kid." He wiped a tear from Marc's face with his sleeve. "You are a good person Marc, please believe me when I tell you that.”
•••••••••••
The worst part was that Marc genuinely believed what he was saying. He didn’t even recognize that he wasn’t using his own words until Steven pointed it out. It was like being Khonshu’s voice all over again, but soul-shatteringly worse. This was ingrained in him. It wasn’t like some odd possession where he heard words coming out of his own mouth without decision. This was his voice. His mouth. His mind. Even in death, he was still an avatar.
“I don’t wanna do it-“ he practically whimpered, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna. I hate seeing their eyes every time I close my own. The light leaving ‘em. The look of fear. I hate them. I hate it. I hate-“ his voice broke again, and he looked down, shaking. “You’re the one part of myself I don’t hate.” He leaned into Steven’s hands, closing his eyes and letting himself breathe. “I’m tired....I'm so tired ...”
••••••••••
"I know, I know." he breathed. "there's so much good in you ,Marc, and, and the fact that it still hurts you the way it does is proof of that. If you were the person you say you are, then surely you wouldn't be so affected by it right? In that room before, you remembered every name, every single name. A bad person wouldn't be able to do that. You just need some rest, some time is all..." he smiled a little, hoping that perhaps as the days went on, Marc would come to realize all of this himself; though it was sure to be a long process. "...would now also be a bad time to mention that you know, we are separate people so- not really a part of you per say- we're more part of a collective and that... yeah no ignore that, nevermind, not the time." not the time at all
•••••••••
It would take time. Maybe his whole life- if he was able to get his life back, that was . However, Steven’s words were starting to chip at the walls he had built up. “Time...just need some time. A vacation- We should take a vacation after this, yeah? Only one plane ticket, so it’d be cheaper.” He let out a wet chuckle, resting his forehead on Steven’s shoulder.
“So now you’re suddenly an expert on my disorder huh?“ he let out a weak laugh. “Okay yeah. Yeah you’re right. It’s your body too. Never was good at sharing...”
•••••••••
"I mean, if we manage to stop being dead then I'd be up for a good holiday." He shrugged, the trace of a smile returning to his features. Good, good, Marc was cheering up slightly. That was good. "Haven’t got many summer clothes though, gotta say, not so used to the warm weather, and it has been absolutely sweltering out there." Needless to say, living in England had its effects.
"Well, I mean. I'm mainly just guessing to be honest, I only found out about this like, it's gotta be like a week ago? Oh my god that's so weird, innit, like, a week ago I didn't even know your name. You sort of, created me, in a way, and I didn't even know your name . I mean you'd have thought I'd have picked it up at some point but, ya know, pretty shit memory and all, stuff gets lost pretty easy"
••••••••
“I think I can get the warm weather clothes covered.” Marc coughed, wiping at his nose with the back of his sleeve. “God that’s gross-“ he let out another sad chuckle, trying to wipe his eyes. “I’m pretty used to different climates. Interesting that you aren’t too. I guess tolerances don’t carry over, hm. Does that mean that you could be a total lightweight?” He elbowed him lightly. He felt....a bit better. Yeah. More at ease with the whole situation. With their situation. Together.
“I mean....your name comes from my favorite childhood movie, so....I can’t really say the same there.” He ran a still-shaking hand through his hair.
“You’re- Steven, it doesn’t matter if you came a couple years later than I did. That doesn’t make you any less real than I am.”
••••••••••••
"Like alcohol? Yeah, sorry, uh, I don't really know that one funnily enough." He did know. He knew full well. He was English, and there’s not much more that needed be said to give an idea of Steven’s alcohol tolerance. He laughed awkwardly, sort of glad things were going okay now, more so than before. Of course he still had a couple of queries and minor things, as well as a fair amount of existential shit to work through for himself but that could be saved for a later day. Right now, quite frankly he was touched.
"Nah, you crafty bugger, you're not catching me out with the tears too" he laughed, to save himself from having to take the emotion seriously. "Of course I'm real.” He said, more to himself than anything. A statement he’d still need to convince himself of fully, but it was progress. “I mean I thought I was before, and that seemed pretty normal, so ya know, just gotta keep doing what I was doing already. what movie was it, I don't remember any Steven Grants on telly. Is he cool? Am I like, kind of in a movie then? No it definitely doesn't work like that does it- nevermind"
•••••••••••••
“I’d say we should get you drunk to find out, but Uh- not a huge fan of alcohol? Think you can guess why.” He cracked his knuckles, shooting Steven a tight smile. “I don’t drink unless I absolutely have to.” He shrugged. His walls were back up, the mask back over his face. Yet something had changed. There were almost windows now.
“Yeah, he- yeah. Think a low-budget Indiana Jones. But British. Painfully British…and fearless.” He smiled slightly. “Sound familiar?”
•••••••••••
"I mean I've drunk it before” of course he had. “Just, never really been invited out, even on work days. Don’t think Donna ever liked me at all to be honest." he shrugged, straightening his shirt out a tad "never really had much of a chance to spread the old wings, I s'pose… like in a social butterfly kinda metaphor-y way.” It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to people, other people just never seemed to want to talk back. Plus, he’d never had enough solid time to make that kind of friendship with someone. And as much as he listened, a living statue wasn’t exactly the guy you’d take on a night out. “And there's that yeah- maybe it's a subconscious thing" he smiled, acutely aware of a shift that had taken place somewhere. Things were different now, and he was pleased with it. Comfortable. It felt a touch closer to normal.
He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to suppress a smile at that "I'd concede that you're the Indiana Jones of the two of us, couldn't say you were British though, I do have that one down. Painful might be an exaggeration but alright, very polite of you. And… I mean I wouldn't say fearless exactly, I mean there's Harrow, Ammit, the Duat, spiders weird me out a bit actually, like, I know they're tiny and they can't really do much but- I don't know, I don't like it. Then there's bears, oh my god, that Jackal thing freaked me the fuck out, what even was that, god almighty I- well you were there weren't you? Got me fired and all that, I'll have you know. My ex-boss, she's quite scary if you catch her on a bad day-" he cut himself off, now aware of the tangent he'd gone on "So I'm basically your version of some guy from a movie? But like, a bit less cool. I'll bet Mr. Grant from the Indiana Jones movie never had to sell plastic pyramids filled with sweets on a monday morning"
•••••••••
“I mean...I’m not much of a ‘people person’, so I can’t blame you.” Marc shrugged slightly, crossing his arms. “You’re right, it might've been a subconscious thing for you. Sorry ‘bout the first night in Cairo, yeah? Got pretty hammered. Punched yet another mirror, as you definitely know- must've a lot to witness after barely knowing me. No wonder you were scared.”
He let out a sharp laugh “Actually, I think Layla’s the Indiana Jones out of us. I’m just the asshole that tags along.” He smirked slightly. “Spiders? Really?” he let out a snort, elbowing him lightly. “Christ, I mean....” he rocked back on his heels as he shrugged. “I’m scared of any water that goes above my ankles. Swimming pools are a big no for me, and god- don’t get me started on the ocean. Fuckin’ hate that. I’m a bit claustrophobic, so thank god it was you in that sarcophagus and not me. Choking? Terrified. Asphyxiation is not the way I wanted to go, so I’m glad we were just shot. Don’t really like doctors in general? I usually just let you handle all those visits, sorry. Needles freak me out. I know my reflexes might kick in, I’m gonna bend my arm, and suddenly it snaps off and is just in there? I’m a bit wary around dogs. You already know I’m terrified of commitment and intimacy-“ he raised an eyebrow. “You think that makes me any less cool? Hell, I have more irrational things in there than you do. And that’s just naming stuff off the top of my head. If anything, you’re cooler than him. Because he was off trekking through the jungle, and you’re here with me.”
•••••••••
"Well I can't say you stopped to explain anything very well, just kinda showed up. I came to one time covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies, which was, well, a bit off putting. Then your weird bunker thingy in a storage unit that was filled with weapons and shite. Can't say you made the greatest first impression, but hey, neither here nor there now I guess." he put his hands in his pockets, mostly just to put them somewhere so they weren't hanging awkwardly by his sides.
"Yeah Layla's pretty cool, very cool" he nodded, almost a tad too enthusiastically, moving on quite quickly so as not to leave any space to dwell on that any longer. "Well most of ‘em make sense don't they? You can kinda see where they- y’know, stemmed from. And then, well, I've never really had much of a shot with the whole commitment thing, but I suppose I wouldn't be opposed to it. Just never seems to work for me cause... well-" well he couldn't just say it, could he, after all that. He gestured incoherently, as if that would do the explaining for him, because quite frankly he'd dug himself into a bit of a hole here. "Anyway, yeah, suppose you could be onto something with that one.” A discrete smile crept onto his face. “Plus I'm actually real so, got one up on him there"
•••••••••••
Marc cringed at that, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Right...yeah that’s on me. Sorry ‘bout that. About the whole blood and bodies thing- that whole mission was a mess, my god- I got shoved off and landed hard. Blacked out. Would’ve hoped that something like that would’ve actually warranted our body going unconscious, but apparently not. Then I couldn’t keep control of it- for the first time in a while, I couldn’t control the switches. Which....worst time ever to have that. Wish it would’ve been someplace simple like your job or something.”
He raised his eyebrow slightly at the Layla comment. “Yeah how’s all that gonna work after this? She’s still my wife.” He warned gently, no malice to his voice. “Right yeah- couldn’t because of our situation. Once again, that’s on me.....If we get out of here, we can probably fix that y’know? Actually....communicate? Like either take up a schedule, or discuss before switching. I mean now that you’re aware, you could probably take the reins whenever the hell you wanted. Which is a bit scary to think about.”
••••••••••
"Well, that would've been more useful, but I guess if I hadn't been there, I wouldn't know about any of this at all. Then we wouldn't be here... then again we are dead so it's not a great situation to be in" Glancing around again, only now reminded of the odd situation. "Still, I'm glad I know you now- thought I might actually be going mental or something with that sleeping thing" he laughed, feeling that odd tension as Marc mentioned his wife... the wife that he, Steven, had kissed not so long ago. Probably not the greatest of ideas to comment on that.
"Yeah, course, course, wouldn't suggest otherwise at all, all yours mate." He nodded "though I'm not sure how she'd feel if I- you know, wanted to find someone, maybe, one day. I mean we can cross that bridge if we come to it.” Another awkwardly tense pause. “Anyway... I mean I don't know how communicating works per say, you know, when I'm not in front. Would be a bit weird to have a mirror on us constantly, so, I mean that's something to try and test out. Being able to switch in and out willingly sounds like fun though..."
••••••••••
He felt a surge of something rise in his chest when Steven said he was glad to know him. Compassion? Awful.
“Mhm. Sure.” He replied, rolling his eyes at that. “Although....she really likes you. If she winds up choosing you? Well....I can’t say she made the wrong choice. I mean hey, you look like me, just a better personality y’know?” He shrugged slightly. “Up until this point? Our lives were totally separate. You didn’t butt into our marriage and I didn’t butt into your life. I think if you did find someone, with a lot of communication between everyone, we could make it work so that you’d have as much privacy as possible. And Layla knows that we’re two different people. So I don’t think there’d be any real problem with it.” He shrugged slightly. “I don’t really know how it’d work either. Communication in general isn’t my forte at all, you know that....maybe we could leave each other notes or something? As much as that sounds like middle school bullshit.”
•••••••••••
“Well you can’t really say that, you guys have been married, like actually married for- I don’t even know how long. It’s not even a question as to who she prefers, Marc, let’s be honest here, mate.” he laughed, because if he didn’t it would be quiet and he did not need a nagging silence after that. Bringing up Layla didn’t feel right, it wasn’t really his place, especially not right now. “I mean, I’ve technically gotten a date before, but I didn’t actually have the date. Missed it by 2 days without even knowing- sorry, I don’t mean to keep mentioning- not much I do isn’t affected by it though, so it’s a bit hard to talk about stuff without it cropping up. Working out this communication thing would do us both a lot of good” nodding, he took a moment in thought, considering evidence and ideas. “I don’t suppose, whilst I was fronting, I’ve heard your voice before. That first time in the apartment, I heard you before I saw you in the mirror. How did you do that? Do you think… could we just talk? Like actually talk? I don’t know if it would even work, whether we could be like, a bit aware but not… how did you know what I was doing when you weren’t fronting? Don’t mean to sound ungrateful for the post-it note idea, but it’s pretty shit if you consider the implications and that.”
••••••••••••
Marc let out an indignant sound to show that he may have not believed that entirely.
“Oh right....yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t know about the date, and what I was doing took a hell of a lot longer than expected.” He shrugged.
“I suppose....I just had to concentrate incredibly hard, and was able to figure it out when you weren’t trying to actively block me out? Hurt like a bitch though, like I was trying to claw my way up a sheer cliff.” He let out a scoff. “The idea wasn’t that bad.....ish.”
••••••••••
Steven gave Marc an odd look, confused and honestly somewhat impressed. How Marc could marry another person and still be so unsure as to whether they liked him that much was just beyond him. Marriage was the ultimate devotion to another person, promising your life and love to them for eternity. To Steven, at least, it was the biggest sign of love there was, something he could only seem to dream of. Still, he knew he wouldn’t win that argument today, so he just moved on, learning to pick his fights here rather than arguing every point. This whole dating thing could be figured out once they weren’t dead, and quite honestly Steven wasn’t so much enjoying the conversation and was rather glad to let it drop.
“The idea was pretty bad, still doesn’t fix involuntary switching. Not that you don’t have good ideas, that just wasn’t one of them.” he clarified quickly with a shrug. “Maybe things’ll be different now I know about you, now we both know about each other- there’s got to be some way to do it internally is all I’m saying. Perhaps not perfectly, but something better than having to be constantly writing down what’s going on just in case. I’d probably lose the thing before we had any chance to use it, knowing my track record.”
•••••••
“I mean- I could often watch what you were doing if I really concentrated.” He shrugged slightly. “Not sure how to explain it.... but yeah. I figure we can probably find a way to talk to each other without seeming like a total lunatic in public...more than usual.” He chuckled.
•••••••••
”Yeah, yeah, no that’s good, that’s great. That way we can be on the same page about stuff before switching and just-” He smiled, letting the words trickle out. There was no further explanation needed. “I’m so glad we’re figuring this out, honestly.” A more contented sigh escaped him, now feeling if only a bit more ready to start this new chapter. Together this time. The wedge between them now cracked and broken.
••••••••••
“Me too.” Marc replied with a slight smile. “Thank you, Steven. Really. I know I’ve been an asshole to you, but you saved my life.” As his arms wrapped around him, initiating the hug this time, the steady clicking sound that had been present for so long that it had faded into background noise suddenly stopped. Silence. Marc pulled away, eyes widening as he saw the scales that were now sitting in the middle of the floor. Silent. Still. Balanced. “Holy shit. Holy shit, Steven-“
•••••••
In that moment, despite everything, Steven almost didn't care about the scales. His heart was full, everything was so at ease. It just felt right. Everything was simply meant to be, this was how it was always supposed to go, and only now he knew that. Not only that, to have Marc initiate a hug, it was beyond a perfect moment. Who cares where he came from? What he started out as? He was here, right now, in this moment. He was here and real and with someone who cared about him, and that was enough. All was well. Then the scales.
Silence. As Marc pulled away, Steven stared at the once wavering souls, perfectly balanced, not tilting, not swaying, not clicking. Balanced. He was right. All was as it should be. "We did it. You did it, Marc" He grinned
••••••
“We did it.” Marc let out an almost incredulous laugh, going in for another short, strong hug. He pulled away, genuinely smiling for the first time since....well- probably since they had met. He’d always had that scowl or grim expression. But now, there was relief and joy in his eyes. For once, his expression was open, and it took years off of him.
“C’mon-“ he grabbed Steven by the arm, pulling him through the nearest door. They landed on the deck, Marc calling out to Taweret. “We did it! They’re balanced!”