Blood Moon

Today was a quiet day. It was raining, as was usual for London; she’d worked with the old bird the night before to handle some lingering followers of Ammit that had been stirring up trouble in Essex; Marc had the body today, though apparently Steven was awake from the half-conversations that Marc was having with him in the reflection of the fish tank. Eyvor had resigned herself to being an actual adult today and making him do chores with her because, honestly, the place could use a good cleaning, and she was sick and tired of tracking sand all over the place because there was still a ring of sand around the bed months after the boys had come to an agreement about fronting. 

So, she did what her mother had always done.

Don’t give him time to process or argue.

“Hold out your hands, Marc!” she called, coming from the bathroom with two hampers. He stood in the middle of the room, his hands out, and she dropped one hamper into them, stacking the other inside of it, and held out her hand, which had a baggie full of coins in it. “If you’ll handle these, I’ll get started up here.”

“Why the two baskets?” he asked.

“One is for the three of you because no one in that system of yours picks up after themselves but Steven, and one is mine, because I refuse to lose another pair of socks to you three.” She was still bitter about that. She loved those llama socks, and they still hadn’t found them. 

“But–don’t you have some things that have to be washed different?” Marc asked. “Layla always had some.”

“If I do, I don’t know it,” Eyvor replied. “Just throw it all in there. It’s fine. You’ve got this, kjæreste. I believe in you.”

“I–” Eyvor had already spun on her heel to find the vacuum cleaner.

“I’m cleaning up all this sand. It’s no longer quirky for aesthetic purposes.”

“How do you know what ‘aesthetic’ is, but Jake had to explain the concept of baseball to you three times before you understood?” Marc asked. She gave him a blank look over her shoulder as she pulled it out from the closet.

“My father is a musician, 'an artist,' he would call himself. I know what aesthetic is. Baseball, on the other hand, is a sport that we do not have in Asgard, and is completely new to me. The laundry, please. And you don’t even have to wait until the machines are done. You can come back up here and keep my company.” Marc started to walk away, hampers in hand, when a phone started ringing. He picked it up off of the corner of Steven’s desk.

“Oh, it’s Layla.”

“Well, answer it while you go do the laundry!” Eyvor said, rolling her eyes at him, though he couldn’t see it. How was this man, a trained mercenary and one of the best, from what Jake told her, this reluctant to do one chore?

“Layla, hi,” he said, noticeably putting the hampers down. Eyvor sighed. Frigga give her strength, she was going to cook only meals that Steven and Jake liked for the next week if he kept this up. “No, I’m not busy. It’s actually pretty–what? No, Eyvor’s here.”

“Hi, Layla!” Eyvor called as she began pulling the sheets off of the bed to wash as punishment for his dallying.

“What? Why?...No, I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just–” Marc sighed, and Eyvor dumped the sheets into the top hamper, raising an eyebrow at him. “She wants to talk to you.” He held the phone out for her, and she grinned.

“Great! You can go to the laundry while we talk!” She took the phone, turning away and holding it to her ear. “Hi, Layla! How are you?”

“Pretty good.” Eyvor took two steps and spun around to see Marc trying to sneak out the door. Without the hampers.

“Hold on,” she said to Layla. “Marc Spector, if you don’t go downstairs and do the washing, I’m telling Steven what happened to his favorite pair of glasses.” Marc’s eyes widened.

“Eyvor, I–” She pointed at the hampers. He sighed, shuffling back in and grabbing the baskets.

“Steven, I know you’re awake in there!” she called after them as Marc walked back towards the door. Steven usually was up and about while Marc was. “Don’t let him give up the body and make you do the chores! Marc, I’ll drink all your whiskey! Don’t think I won’t! You know I can handle it!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Marc protested. “No need to get mean about it.”

“Marc!” He ducked out the door, closing it behind him. She sighed, putting the phone back to her ear in time to hear Layla cackling. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Cleaning day?”

“It’s the first time I’ve made them help in months, and this is what he does!”

“Yeah, he hates doing chores.”

“If Steven and I didn’t do them, I don’t know what this place would look like.”

“I do. Be glad you don’t. You’ve got the right idea, though. Keep him motivated, however you can. He actually does laundry better than I do. His folds are always perfect. It’s a gift.” Eyvor laughed, starting to straighten Steven’s bookshelves so he would have more room for the books he was always bringing home.

“So, what can I do for you, Layla? It’s been a little while since we’ve heard from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy handling things over here.”

“We saw it on the news. Scarlet Scarab, huh? What a fancy name. So official.” Layla laughed.

“Yeah, I like it. I really feel like I’m making a difference to these people.”

“I know you are. The boys and I are very proud of you.”

“Thanks. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about them.”

“Oh? They’re fine, I promise. Getting actual sleep, relaxing. We’ve got new fish.”

“New fish?”

“A goldfish for each of them, and this funny looking one for me. He’s very cute. Don’t tell the boys, but I wanted a koi. The tank’s too small, though.”

“I won’t tell. You’re getting Marc to clean, and he’s doing it. That tells me enough. No, I–well, I’m going to take a bit of a break from things here. I was going to come for a visit, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Me? Please don’t think that you need my permission to come see them. Steven and Marc adore you.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. We’d have a problem if you tried. I just–don’t know much about you. You showed up so suddenly, and you’re obviously planning on sticking around, so I thought maybe we should get to know each other.” Eyvor smiled.

“I’d like that.” She paused to think. As far as she knew, Marc hadn’t told Layla about Jake. She was mostly okay with double-talking, but she really wasn’t good at it (as evidenced by the fact that Jake still teased her with the ‘Evin Lockley’ situation). She’d have to get Marc to tell her first. It’d make everything easier for them. “I think Marc’s feelings would be hurt if I met with you before you talked to him, though.”

“Whatever. I only decided today, so it’s fine.” Eyvor nearly dropped the small pile of books she was carrying, but she managed.

“We’re not that busy. Steven’s thinking about trying to get a job again, but he hasn’t decided yet. Marc’s still ‘on vacation’ as far as I can tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything. Come by when you get here. We’ll work something out.”

“I want to surprise them,” Layla said. “I think it’d make Steven excited.”

“It absolutely would. I’ll text you from my phone, so we can talk without them seeing.” Jake was the only one who could get into her phone, and he didn’t really make a habit of snooping.

“Great. Tell them I wanted another girl’s opinion on something. It’ll keep Marc from asking, at least.” Eyvor laughed.

“Sure. He’ll probably call you when he gets back.”

“I’ll be waiting. Bye.”

“Bye!” She hung up the phone, putting it back in the usual place, and began vacuuming the sand. The front door opened again, and she looked up from where she was almost done with the foot of the bed, turning off the vacuum to talk. “Look! You survived! I’m so proud.”

“Layla hang up?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t anything important. You can call her back, though. But, Marc?” He paused in his walk towards the phone. “You should tell her about Jake. She wants to hang out sometime, just us girls, and it’ll be hard not to mention him.” He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“I–I don’t know, Eyvor.”

“I know it’s hard, but she accepted Steven, once she understood what was going on. She does know you have DID, right?” Marc was silent. “Marc. How else do you explain Steven?”

“You’re the only person who knows. And I guess Jake told you that.”

“He had to. I saw you walking one day and didn’t know, and when I asked him, he told me. Marc, you’re married to her, and she doesn’t know?”

“It’s never ended well when people found out before,” Marc replied, “and we aren’t married anymore.” Eyvor was going to get a headache from all the ups and downs this conversation was taking. She put vacuum down and walked over to him, laying a hand on his arm gently.

“When did that happen? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“The week after Cairo. She–she said she still loved me, but we’d been going in different directions for a long time, and after learning about her dad–” He cut himself off, and Eyvor pulled him into a hug.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” she whispered as Marc clung to her.

“The others didn’t know. I blocked them out for it. Don’t blame them.”

“I don’t blame you,” she replied. “It’s not a blame thing. I just want to be here for all of you, however you need me. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.” Marc hid his face in the space between her neck and shoulder, her hair providing a shield from the outside world for a brief time. “I meant what I told you, kjæreste. I don’t expect anything from you that you don’t want to give. But I do want to be here for you, do anything you need done. That includes making you do chores so we don’t live in chaos.” He huffed a laugh. “It also includes giving you a hug when your wife divorces you.”

“We’re still friends,” he said.

“I know that. She told me. Well, she implied it. And if you’re worried about that bothering me, it doesn’t. I’ve seen weirder. I’ve seen worse.” She poked his side playfully, making him jerk away, glaring at her in betrayal as she smiled. “Don’t worry about me, kjæreste. But it would make my life easier if you would tell her. I’ll even go out for a little while, not to finish the laundry.” She smiled as his shoulders slumped. “Hey.” She stepped closer to him and poked his arm, making him look up at her from where his gaze had slid to the floor. “I love you, Marc Spector. Don’t tell yourself any differently, because I can do that for myself.” She kissed both his cheeks and winked at him before turning to try to finish the sand. “Don’t touch Steven’s books. I’m handling it.”

He didn’t drag his feet about helping her clean for the rest of the day, and when he quietly admitted that he was going to call Layla several hours later, she kissed his cheek again and left to go buy groceries, telling him to let her know when he was okay for her to come back.

She wandered for most of the time, but he finally texted her two hours later.

Thank you.

She smiled and replied immediately.

You don’t have to thank me, kjæreste. Just have dinner ready when I get back. I’m hungry.

She could picture the huff of a laugh she would get from that, because she got the same response from all the boys when she told them she was hungry. 

I can do that. See you in a bit.

Now to plan what she and Layla would get up to.

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

“What do you lot think about this one?” Steven asked, prompting Eyvor to peer at his computer screen while she assumed Marc and/or Jake looked on from the mirrors they were sitting in front of. He had finally decided to start looking for jobs again.

“Nope, won’t work,” Eyvor said, pointing to a line further down the page. “They say there may be times to work nights, which means they may abuse your currently-open schedule. Jake and Marc have to have some time with the body, solskinn.”

“Oh, right, didn’t see that. Thanks, love.” He kissed her temple and went to the next tab. 

“Why can’t you go back to the other museum?” she asked. “You loved working at the museum.” He twitched.

“If I have to listen to that perra talk down to him again, she’ll be listed under unsolved murders,” Jake growled, and Eyvor giggled, kissing him through her laughter.

“That’s never stopped you before, tvillingsjel.”

“Kinda hard to do when we share a face, rosa de sangre.” She slumped.

“I suppose you’re right.” Jake rolled his neck, and when he straightened, Steven gave her a panicked look.

“What’s never stopped you before, Jake?!” he asked in a concerned tone. From the face he made, Jake either answered in Spanish or gave a half-answer. Eyvor looked down as her phone pinged at her. A text from Layla. 

Now, there was a thought.

“Layla again?”

“Why?” Eyvor teased, nuzzling his nose. “You jealous?”

“No! No, never. Just–”

“Solskinn, I’m teasing,” she assured him. “Keep looking for jobs. Are you hungry? It’s past noon.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I could eat.” She kissed his cheek.

“Keep looking. And keep letting Marc and Jake look them over too. I’ll go make something.” She got up from the couch and texted Layla.

Are you busy? And do you speak Norwegian?

No. And yes?

Does Marc?

No?

Great

Eyvor put the phone to her ear while she began searching the kitchen for something to make to eat.

“Hallo?” Now that was something that made her feel at ease, hearing someone other than her other use her native language. Albeit, the modern version that still sometimes felt clunky on her tongue, but it was sometimes more comfortable than anything else.

“Hi! Okay, I need you to do something for me when you get here.”

“Sure? Why the secrecy?”

“Who are you talking to, love?” Steven called.

“Layla!”

“Layla speaks Norwegian?”

“Ask Marc!” She turned back to her call. “Because I don’t want the boys overhearing. You remember that boss who was mean to Steven? Marc must have told you about that.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“Marc wants to know why you’re saying our names?” Steven asked.

“We’re just chatting, Marc! Who else would I tell her about? The fish?”

“Alright. See? I told you,” he muttered, presumably to Marc.

“Well, he wants to go back to work. I think he feels bad just sitting around all day and not doing anything. But none of them catch his eye. And the ones that do are bad for other reasons. He wants to be a tour guide.”

“Oh, he’d be so great at that!”

“We all think so, but we don’t want him going back and having to work with that lady, his boss.”

“Are you asking me to help you kill someone?”

“No! If I wanted to do that, I’d kill her myself. Just–any ideas on how to deal with her? Jake and I would handle it otherwise, but I don’t think Steven would like that.”

“No, he wouldn’t, you’re right.”

“Love?”

“Yes, Steven?”

“Jake says to stop talking about him when he can’t understand you.”

“Now he knows how I feel all the time. Deal with it, Jake. Do you want a sandwich or stir fry, Steven?”

“Sandwich, please. Stir fry can be dinner.”

“I can do that.”

“They’re being nosy,” Layla said with a laugh.

“I’m going to start giving them sly looks to make them think I’m saying something awful if they don’t stop.”

“I’d help you if I was there. Let me think about it for a minute. I’ve got some ideas.”

“I knew you would.”

“Is what Marc said true, though? About what she’d say to Steven?”

“I think the only person in that place who was nice to him was that tour guide lady Jake asked out so I could steal stuff from her apartment.”

“Is that why?!” Eyvor laughed.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, she was not that nice of a person. Poor thing really dodged a bullet there.”

“You know how upset he was about that?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. But he’s got me now, and I cook for him and don’t make him go to a steakhouse for no reason.”

“I’m glad he has you. That all of them do. You think Jake will let me talk to him when I visit?”

“If he doesn’t, he’ll have to deal with me, and I can be much more annoying than Marc when I want to be.” Layla snorted, breaking down into laughter, and Eyvor giggled.

“I like you. You get him.”

“I’ll get through to him one of these days, stubborn American.”

“Hey!” Marc exclaimed, and Eyvor burst into laughter. “What did you say?! I know that word when I hear it!”

“Nothing, kjæreste. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m gonna worry about it! What did you say? Layla, what did she say? And why didn’t I know you spoke Norwegian?!” Through her laughter, Layla finally was able to get a word out.

“Put the phone on speaker, Eyvor.” She obeyed. “Marc?”

“What did she say?” he demanded. Layla began speaking in an entirely different language, but Marc’s body language shifted. It wasn’t one that Eyvor recognized, but she was able to get the rest of the things out for lunch. “Sorry, Eyvor,” Marc eventually said after the two of them went back and forth for a while.

“It’s alright, kjæreste.”

“Steven said it’s okay if I eat lunch.”

“Sit down, then.” Eyvor picked her phone back up and held it to her ear again.

“Did you scold him? What was that?” she laughed.

“Something like that. He knows not to question our girl talk anymore.”

“When are you coming here?”

“Next week?”

“Great. I look forward to it.”

“Me too. I’ll let you know when I’ve got some plans.”

“Even better. Bye, Layla.”

“Bye!”

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

Eyvor made Jake promise that he would stay in the apartment tonight. She’d promised to buy him the nicest bottle of tequila he wanted, as long as he would just stay at home. He’d agreed, but he was suspicious. She’d tell him later, when she was sure that Marc and Steven weren’t listening.

Tonight, she and Layla were making sure that Steven would have a job; a better job that he would enjoy and would make a better work environment for everyone involved.

Layla had done some digging. Apparently, there had been a lot of complaints about Donna, but there had been multiple charges of misconduct for JB, the security guy, harassing the female employees. Several people had quit because of the two of them, and it seemed that the higher-ups of the museum didn’t care. So, once she knew that these two people had made life difficult for Steven and were part of the reason that he had lost his job at the museum (along with the fact that it was Marc’s fault with the jackal where he didn’t even try to be subtle about things), Layla was completely on board with making sure that Donna and JB were both either fired or quit of their own volition.

Eyvor once again broke the back door into the museum while Layla handled the technology side of things.

“You handle Donna,” Layla had told Evyor while they were planning things over lunch at a bistro that morning. “I’ll handle JB.” Eyvor had agreed, enjoying the chance to finally make Steven’s old boss suffer. Jake had called her fuming so many days, nearly foaming at the mouth to do something about the woman who refused to respect Steven as a person just because he was a little quirky. He couldn’t do anything or risk losing the chance for Steven to be hired again, but Eyvor had a plan.

Layla crept into the museum, and Eyvor pulled the door closed behind them. On silent feet, the pair of them slipped through the shadows. They found Donna first, who was laying into someone Eyvor could only guess was Steven’s replacement at the gift shop. The poor girl looked barely out of secondary school, and was quivering. Eyvor grit her teeth, angry flames licking up the back of her neck. 

“You got this?” Layla whispered.

“Gladly,” Eyvor hissed. Layla continued on while Eyvor searched for high ground, climbing some of the pillars and balancing on the narrow ledges that decorated the lofty ceilings.

“Now go home while I fix your mess! I’ve ‘bout had it with you!”

“Ye–yes, m–ma’am,” the girl stammered, scurrying away with muffled sobs. Eyvor seethed. Steven was strong; as far as she knew, he had never cried over Donna’s words, but if this was anything like how the woman had been talking to him, she had a newfound respect both for Steven’s character and Jake’s self-control.

With the woman left alone, muttering angrily under her breath, Eyvor began her plan, pressing herself into the shadows high above. Let’s see how Donna liked being the one not in charge anymore.

Her fingers flicked, twisting and bending, while thorns and brambles began to grow around the woman’s feet in loose holds, not touching, only snagging slightly. A breeze began to blow, bringing with it a haunting melody that Eyvor hummed under her breath. A satisfied smirk began to pull at her lips as the blonde woman looked up, trying to identify where the sound was coming from.

“Who’s there?”

A gleam of light flashing off of the eyes of one of the old Egyptian statues. 

“There are nine of us,” Eyvor whispered, her voice echoing and bouncing off of the breeze until it overlapped in harsh hisses. “And only one of you.”

“What?” Oh, silly Donna. Eyvor knew the Ennead. Steven had given her so many wonderful facts about Egypt, she knew more about their culture than she did her own. He would have told Donna about the error on the banners. He couldn't help himself sometimes, and Eyvor adored him for it. “Look, if this is another one of your pranks, Jimmy, I’m tired of your games.”

“You can’t escape what you’ve done,” Eyvor hissed, the breeze wrapping around the woman’s shoulders. “We see the people you hurt.”

“What? Just because I tell ‘em the truth? That makes me a bad person? Who are you? Quit hiding!” Eyvor knew the woman couldn’t see her, but she tilted her head in response, a grin overtaking her. 

“Who’s hiding?”

All of the statues’ eyes flared for just a moment. The thorns grew tighter, and she took great joy in watching the woman jump and fall against the display counter at the brambles around her feet.

“We watch,” she rumbled, doing her best impression of Jake’s angry growls. “We listen.” A dash of Marc for fun. “We remember.” Steven was too dangerous, but she threw in her only memory of her father well and truly angry. The thorns squeezed tighter, drawing blood.

“Who are you?”

“She doesn’t know?” The hippo on the boat. “Of course she doesn’t.” Layla. “She doesn’t care for what she sees.” Frigga, noble and angry. “Then let’s make sure she never forgets again.” That crocodile lady. 

“I’m sorry! I’ll do better!”

“You’ve had your chance!” Heimdall. The deepest voice she had ever heard. The notes she managed to pull out shook the glass cases. “And now?” Her own voice, because she would never let this woman hurt her boys again. Never her sweet solskinn. “You’ll be punished.” The eyes flared again, a spring breeze, still chilled by winter, lashed at Donna’s face. The thorns sliced her hands where she tried to pull them off of her feet. Donna screamed, and she tried to get up. Eyvor let the thorns loosen, and the woman got up, running from the room in a panic. Eyvor let the echoes of the voices she had done bounce off of one another and fill the room, creating a din behind her that she would remember for the rest of her life.

In the meantime, she slipped back down the column and followed the path Donna carved to the back door and slipped away to wait for Layla at the agreed-upon meeting place, the steakhouse that Jake raved about. It was well-past dinner, and she was hungry. She was only waiting for a few minutes before Layla dropped down into the seat next to her.

“What did you do? I heard that scream all the way back in the tech room,” Layla asked.

“Nothing she didn’t deserve, and she’s still alive, before you ask. Steven wouldn’t like it if I killed her.”

“He wouldn’t, you’re right. What did I hear, though?”

“I wanted her to know what it’s like to not feel safe in your place of work.”

“Eyvor,” Layla said, a tone in her voice that made it sound like she was getting ready to scold her. 

“Layla, please, order dinner, and I will make sure you know exactly what that woman did to Steven. You might think I let her off easy.”

By the end of dinner, when the women started walking towards the boys’ place, Layla was contemplating just how much they could get away with before all of them made Steven disappointed.

When they reached the apartment, Eyvor let them in with a smile. “Boys! We’re home!”

“We?” Steven asked. “Who’s–Layla!” he exclaimed, getting up from his seat at his desk and running to pull her into a hug. “This is a surprise! Sorry for the mess. If I’d known you were comin’, I’d have cleaned up a bit, but–”

“It’s fine, Steven,” Layla said, smiling happily. “The sand is gone! That’s good!”

“And the ankle restraint!” Eyvor said over her shoulder as she went to kick her shoes off onto the rack they kept next to the closet. “And we cleaned three days ago, Steven! It looks so much better! You can find all of your maps now!”

“Yes, I can, and it’s wonderful, love. I appreciate it, really I do.” There was a pause.

“Layla,” Marc said. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened. I just wanted to come for a visit.” Eyvor turned around to see Marc looking between her and Layla a few times.

“Is this what the two’a you were talkin’ about on the phone the other day?” he asked.

“She wanted it to be a surprise,” Eyvor answered. “Who am I to deny you such a surprise?” Marc’s shoulders shifted, and Jake smirked at her.

“That where you been all day, gotita? Out havin’ a girls’ day?”

“Yes, and we had a wonderful time!” Eyvor replied, skipping over and giving him a kiss. “Now, be nice and say hello to Layla.”

“Hola a Layla,” he replied, and Marc had taught her enough Spanish in half-conversations and hastily written notes before Jake could find them to know that he had just mocked her.

“Jake Lockley! I will drink the tequila I buy you myself!” Jake huffed and rolled his eyes but he turned to Layla, who was watching this with an amused smile.

“Hola, Layla,” he said.

“Nice to meet you. Eyvor tells me we’ve met before.” Jake blinked at her, and then at Eyvor, and then back again.

“¿Qué?”

“You were in Cairo, with Harrow.”

“Oh, sí. I was.”

“That whole part at the end there? With her? That was you?”

“Sí.” Eyvor wanted to sigh at the short answers he was giving, but it was the best she was going to get, and she knew that.

“How did you do that thing with the spinning kick? I’ve never seen anybody hit three jaws at once with one kick.” Jake straightened, a smile spreading, and Eyvor grinned before the whole body shuddered and she was met with Marc’s scowl.

“No, no, you are not teaching her that. Jake–no, I don’t–” He had turned to the fish tank and was pointing at it. “–I don’t care if she asked, you can’t–because I said so, that’s why! You don’t–you’ve got Eyvor already; you don’t get two sidekicks!”

“Hey! I am not a sidekick, Marc Spector!” Eyvor protested, but he didn’t even hear her. Eyvor leaned over. “Layla?”

“Hm?” The woman looked very amused to see Marc arguing with the fish tank. This was a more common occurrence than most people would think in the Spector/Grant/Lockley household. Eyvor was used to it and usually just sat back to watch and be entertained.

“What’s a sidekick?”

Layla burst into laughter, and it seemed to break Marc out of his argument with Jake enough for Jake to take the front again.

“I’ll teach you sometime, ¿vale, pequeña escarabaja?” Layla smiled and nodded through her laughter.

“Sure. I can’t wait.” Eyvor reached out a hand, motioning for Jake to walk back over, and he took it, standing next to her.

“Ice cream?” she asked with a smile, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

“Diablos no,” he replied, and then Steven was snickering with her and Layla over their ability to fully frustrate the other two within five minutes of walking in the door.

It was a gift they would have to work on in the future, and Eyvor had already learned that Layla was a great conspirator.