Blood Moon

Jack Lockley was used to coming to consciousness in odd locations. Name it, and he’d probably done it. The floor of Marc’s childhood bedroom, a closet at school, a gutter in London, staring into the eyes of bullies, both children and adults, with a gun in his hand or with nothing but himself. 

The sands of the Middle East, the forests of Europe, the plains of America, the snow of the mountains in Asia–he’d woken up or come to the front in all kinds of places.

Never, not once, had he ever woken up in a bed that smelled of apples and vanilla to the sound of Latin music playing faintly, with no memory of how he’d gotten here.

He was always more present than the other two would have thought. It was his job, after all, to step in to protect them. He was always awake in some capacity, ready to gently but firmly nudge the others to the back into sleep while he stepped in to handle things. The only time he could say with certainty that he’d woken up with no idea how he’d gotten there was when he’d first been aware of himself back in Chicago, in Marc’s small bedroom, to his mother’s screams and fists and a belt lashing across his back. Since then, Jake made it a point to always do his best to know what was going on, be aware of his surroundings, never leaving Marc or Steven alone, even if they had no idea that he was there at all. They didn’t need to know anyway. He was there to keep them from knowing things, so it would make sense that they wouldn’t know about him, by default. 

That was okay, except right now, that meant that he was completely out of his depth and unsure where he was. When he opened his eyes, he was met with red and white wallpaper, a bed with soft blankets, and, most importantly, without his clothes. 

What the hell had happened?

He could hear the music still playing, but it wasn’t in this room. He could also hear water running.

There was no way Marc or Steven had randomly hooked up with someone, and he had no memory of doing it, so what the hell was going on?

The water shut off, but the music persisted, and he heard footsteps coming his way, so he shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep. 

Their gait was light, feet barely making a sound as they walked into the room. They paused, probably looking at him, before continuing to move around, opening and closing drawers quietly and disappearing from the room again. He looked around again as whoever it was walked away. His clothes were folded at the foot of the bed, one side made up and pristine while his side was rumpled. Okay, so whoever it was washed his clothes? Thoughtful, for sure, but weird for a one-night stand. 

Seriously, what the hell was going on?

Footsteps again, and he laid back down from where he had sat up, slamming his eyes shut.

Something was set down on the dresser that was in the corner. It brought with it the smell of fresh bread, and his mouth started to water. When was the last time he got to eat? Marc and Steven were in charge of that, and Steven more than Marc. Jake got hungry, sure, but his comfort was secondary. 

“I know you’re awake.” He knew that voice. “You forget I can hear better than you. Sit up and eat something before you pass out again.” He opened his eyes to see the woman that appeared in the most random of places when he was carrying out Khonsu’s justice. She was settling at the foot of the bed, two plates in her hands, and she was holding one out for him. He stared at it suspiciously. “Really? If I wanted to poison you, I could’ve done it while you sleeping. Just eat the grapes.”

There were indeed grapes, and biscuits he could see the steam rising off of, and eggs. He spared a moment for how upset Steven would be at the options before he started to eat. 

“You know, I was worried about you. Could’ve left a note or some sign you’d be back.” Always talking, this one. If he didn’t respect her so much as a vigilante, he would be annoyed. Honestly, though, he hadn’t had companionship since Marc left the mercenary business involuntarily, and she didn’t shrink away from him. 

“Lo siento, gota de sangre,” he said around a mouthful. She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

“You know, we’ve been around each other for months now. I have a name. Eyvor. You could use it.”

“Jake.” She looked taken aback that he’d just given her his name with no prompting. 

“Well, that was easier than I thought. Good morning, Jake. There’s more fruit in the kitchen if you want it.”

“Thanks,” he answered, deciding that if he was going to entertain her companionship, and he could admit to himself that he liked her enough to do so, they might as well start actually talking rather than having semi-one-sided conversations.

On top of that, the face she made when he answered in English made him chuckle.

“This whole time?!” she exclaimed.

“Yup.”

“You jævel!” she said, reaching out with a foot to kick his leg. Jake shrugged in response. 

“Es divertido molestarte, gota de sangre,” he said.

“Don’t you start that again! What are you saying?”

“Not tellin’.”

“Jake!” He grinned, aware that this was the most fun he had had since Marc’s mercenary days. He was fully aware he was going to have to leave soon, give Marc or Steven back the body to go about their lives, but he was going to be selfish, just this once. They didn’t know about her. She was his friend (and that thought made his heart do something odd in his chest), and he wanted to keep her for a little while longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey.”

“Mm,” Jake grunted as he and Eyvor walked the streets of London, finishing the clean-up of their latest act of revenge. Either Khonsu liked her enough to let him work with her, or she was going after the same people he was by sheer coincidence, because they had found one another nearly every other night the past few weeks. Had it really been six months since they’d first met?

“Why didn’t you talk to me yesterday?”

“¿Qué?”

“I called your name and everything, and you didn’t even turn around.”

Jake’s blood ran cold.

“Where did ya see me?”

“Over in Hillingdon. I was grabbing something for my landlady, and I saw you over there, and I called you, but you didn’t even turn around. I know you don’t forget faces or voices. Why didn’t you stop?”

Oh no. That was Marc yesterday. He didn’t know her. He wouldn’t know to stop. He didn’t know about Jake either. He didn’t know Eyvor.

Did he tell her? Mierda. 

“Jake?”

“That wasn’t me.” Guess he was.

“Yes, it was, don’t lie to me, Lockley. I think I’d know the man I’ve been going on late night jaunts with for the past six months. It was you.”

“No, no fui yo. It–” He heaved a sigh and grabbed her arm, pulling her along faster.

“Jake, what the hell?” That was something that made him smile. She didn’t use to swear in anything but Norwegian, but since they had started being around each other more, she was picking up things from him. The first time she’d cussed in Spanish, he had felt a bolt of pride that made him go back to Steven’s apartment questioning everything. 

“Not here, gota de sangre.” There was only one way to do this. He was man enough to admit to himself that he liked her, at the very least as a friend. She made the late nights go by faster, the fights more engaging, his existence more than just protecting his other headmates. 

“Then where?”

“Just follow me, ¿de acuerdo?” She sighed, following behind him obediently.

“Fine, but only because you’re acting weird.”

He led her to where he kept his cab when he wasn’t on the clock. It was the safest place without taking her to Steven’s, and he wasn’t ready to put the others at risk like that. They both sat in the front seat, even though there was no seat for Eyvor to sit on. Instead, she sat in the wheel well, her knees bumping against the middle console as she crossed her legs and looked up at him expectantly. They’d had to do this a few times in the past, and she was comfortable down there. He’d even put an old blanket down so it wasn’t as harsh on her body (again, he’d had to stop and consider several things after that). 

“Gonna tell me what’s going on now?” she asked. He didn’t think that she would abandon him just because of this, but for once, he was nervous about it. Why did he care so much about what she thought? It wasn’t like they were close.

But weren’t they? They’d both saved each other’s lives a few times. They’d both stitched wounds closed (at least until Khonsu stepped in and healed him later), and she’d told him some about her home, explaining that she was from far away and that her parents were important people, but that she wanted to find her own purpose, so she’d come here to find it. 

Jake liked her more than he liked most other people, and that was rare for him. 

More importantly, he wanted to tell her.

“It was me, but it wasn’t me .”

“Do you have a twin? Wouldn’t he know your name then?”

“Kinda. But they’re up here.” He tapped his temple. She looked at him in confusion for a minute.

“Like, in your head?”

“Sí.”

“I don’t understand.” So, he gave her the rundown, summing up DID and what his life was like. She was silent the entire time, letting him explain in his own words about himself, Steven, and what they meant to Marc, that she had seen Marc yesterday and even though she was right, it was him, it was also not. Marc had no idea who she was, or who Jake was, or that Jake even existed. It felt like it took forever for him to get the words out, but when he glanced at the clock, only about ten minutes had passed. “Okay,” she finally said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. So I won’t say anything next time I see you without the hat. We can keep doing what we’ve been doing.” She shrugged, as if she hadn’t just accepted one of the two big secrets he’d kept from her without question. “Follow up question.”

“Disparo.”

“Those robes I saw you in that one time. Was that you? Or was it Marc?”

“Marc. I took over when it was too much for him.”

“Where did the robes come from?”

“Khonsu.”

“Who?”

“Egyptian god of the moon. We’re his Avatar.” She blinked for a moment.

“I haven’t been here long, but you don’t look like a blue person.” Jake snorted.

“Not like that. Good movie though. Steven liked it a bunch.” She smiled.

“I agree. Now explain.”

“He’s the reason I disappeared for so long. Marc was doin’ jobs for him. He’s this god that protects ‘the travelers of the night’ or some shit. We beat people up for him.”

“Oh, so like I do.”

“Yeah. But he finds them for us and tells us to go after ‘em.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I meet him?” Jake shook his head.

“Doesn’t work like that, pequeña gota.” The new nickname had them both startled, but she continued on as if he hadn’t said anything new.

“Why not? I have to wander around and figure everything out on my own. It’d be nice to find them faster.”

“Trust me, less you interact with that old bird, the better, ¿entender?” She sighed and nodded.

“Fine. Sorry I asked. I’ll tell you my secret? Make it fair?” He furrowed his brows in confusion, but he nodded. “I’m from Asgard.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s in another realm. You know the Avengers? Thor?”

“Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“I’m from the same place as Thor.”

“What? Like an alien? From outer space?” She giggled, and Jake had to fight not to react when his heart flipped in his chest at the sound.

“Like Avatar,” she replied, smiling up at him. “My parents are Bragi and Iðunn, god of music and poetry, and goddess of youth, spring, and–” She paused, reaching into a bag she always had on her hip and holding out a bright red apple to him. “–apples.”

“Apples? Like, specifically?”

“Try it. You’ll see why.” He took it and bit into it. It was the best apple he had ever tasted. “See?”

“Sí.” She laughed again.

“Oh, so now you have a sense of humor,” she teased. He grinned back at her.

“So, you’re some god too?”

“I guess?” She shrugged, the humor gone from her face. “We’re just people. At least, I can’t do anything wild. I have an affinity for music from Father, and I can make apples ripen from Mother, but I don’t have anything specific I do. It’s why I came here, to Midgard.”

“Huh?”

“It’s what we call Earth, back home. I was told that it was the people of Asgard’s job to protect the Nine Realms, particularly Midgard, so I trained until I was ready, and then I came here soon after Thor was sent here, and you know the rest. We’ve never had any Avatars, though. That’s a new thing to me.”

“‘S not all it’s cracked up to be.” Jake liked exacting justice, but he hated being under the whims of that old bird. He hated the way he made Marc feel.

“It’s his robes that kept that bullet from killing you, though? When I saw them?”

“Yup.”

“Then I’m glad for him. At least until you and Marc stop being shot at.” She shifted and then flipped with practiced ease into the backseat. Jake shifted in his seat, recognizing the end of the conversation. “I’m hungry. Know any good place to eat?”

“Best steakhouse in town,” he replied.

“Take me to dinner, Lockley. I’m hungry.”

“Mocosa.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” she said haughtily. “I hope it means, ‘Yes, Eyvor, I will take you to dinner.’”

“It doesn’t.”