Blood Moon

“You sure about this?” Marc asked, staring out across the rooftops in front of them.

“What, now you’re worried about it? I’ve seen you do this when you had the suit,” Eyvor teased, bouncing on her toes a few times to shake out the excited nerves. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. But you won’t. I know you’re better than that.”

“The vote of confidence is great, but don’t exactly have the suit to deal with broken bones, do I?” Eyvor rolled her eyes.

“I’ll catch you, kjæreste. Now, six streets over, right?”

“Yeah,” Marc said, shaking out his shoulders and shifting to get ready to run. Eyvor snickered, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“Go,” she whispered, taking advantage of his shock to take off across the rooftops, her feet pounding across the flat tops. 

“That’s cheating!” Marc shouted after her, and Eyvor’s laughter echoed down into the streets below as she ran, reaching the first gap between the rows of homes, and she launched herself with practiced ease before turning to watch Marc grit his teeth and go for the jump without hesitation. Adrenaline junkie. She reached out a hand just in case, but he didn’t need it. He landed solidly with a whoop, and he didn’t stop moving, leaving her behind. He gave another shout as he kept running, and Eyvor burst into laughter, breaking out into a sprint to catch up. Her heart was alight with joy. She hadn’t been able to do this, even when all of them had the suit; Jake preferred other activities when he was fronting. This was thrilling, especially as she caught up with Marc, and the two shared wide grins of pure excitement. She reached out a hand for him again as they approached the next gap, wider than the last, and Marc grabbed it, the pair of them running in tandem and leaping at the last second, hurtling through the air in free-fall. Eyvor’s stomach leapt into her throat, and she and Marc let out matching whoops as they landed. Eyvor was ready to let go of his hand, but he kept it clasped tightly, not giving her a chance to pull away, and it made her already-racing heart thump even more. “This is amazing!” Marc exclaimed, and Eyvor grinned at him.

“Faster?”

“Faster?!” he echoed, eyes widening in shock.

“You’re faster than you think,” she replied through her heavier breaths. “I’ll teach you.”

“Yeah. How?” She smiled.

“Stop trying to run,” she replied. “Try to fly.”

“How?” Marc repeated.

“When we reach the next street, don’t try to jump it.” She looked above them, through the foggy night air to the stars glittering overhead. “Go for the stars. Stop thinking. When you played pretend, did you ever pretend you could fly?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that again. Don’t think. Pretend. Believe.”

“Faith, trust, and pixie dust,” Marc said.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Let’s do it.” Eyvor squeezed his hands, the next street coming up fast, and she took a deep breath, a calm washing over the thrill of this experience. 

“I’ve seen you do it, Marc. Don’t jump. Fly.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and watched him actually close his eyes to take a steeling breath before his eyes opened again, and he smiled in her direction. They reached the edge of the road, the widest yet, and they pushed off again, and for just a moment, it truly felt like they were flying, nothing but the wind rushing past their ears, but when they landed, they were faster, speeding across the rooftops at a speed Eyvor was more familiar with, and she heard Marc let out another shout, this one slightly more unhinged, a hint of shock in it.

“Holy shit!” he yelled. Eyvor let out a wild laugh, and by the time they reached their own rooftop again, they were both breathless and windswept but laughing and leaning against one another as they tumbled through their open window back into the apartment and promptly fell on the floor next to each other. “That–was awesome!” Marc exclaimed, his eyes alight with joy and adrenaline. Eyvor grinned back at him.

“We should do it again,” she said.

“Now?” Marc got up on shaking legs to climb out the window again, and Eyvor grabbed him by the pants leg to pull him back down.

“No, not now, kjæreste! You’ll hurt yourself. But soon. Once you’re used to it.” They sat in silence for a while, catching their breaths and coming down from the adrenaline high they have been on.

“It was the apples?” Marc asked as they laid on the ground with their heads next to each other but their feet pointing different directions.

“I think so,” she replied. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Is it permanent?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like this ever happened to me before. The three of you are the only ones I’ve ever given apples to.”

“Not even Layla?”

“She never asked.”

“Oh. Maybe don’t. Not without warning her.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Good.” Marc let out a long breath. “That’s–yeah, that’s good.”

“Marc?”

“Hm?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Thank you. For running with me, I mean. And not being upset that it happened.”

“It’s not like you did it on purpose, right?”

“No! No, I would never–”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he interrupted. “That’s why I’m okay with it, I think. I know we don’t exactly hang out a bunch, but I’m usually awake anyway. You always make sure Jake and Steven know you’re not forcing them into something. You’ve never asked us for something impossible. I know it was an accident, but it’s okay. We’re all okay with it.”

“They told you that?”

“Yeah.” A weight lifted off her shoulders, and she sighed.

“Good. I was–I was worried it’d change things.”

“I mean, it does, but not between us. Not for me anyway.” Marc glared over at one of the mirrors, and Eyvor grinned.

“Jake Lockley, you behave,” she scolded with a laugh.

“How’d you know?” Marc questioned.

“You don’t look at Steven like that, and he wouldn’t have said anything to make you give him that look anyway.” Marc huffed a laugh, looking up towards the ceiling. He grew quiet again.

“Do you wish you could see them? When I’m fronting?”

“Sometimes. I always worry it’s rough on all of you to switch so often when we all talk. I wouldn’t want you to tire yourselves out just to talk to me.”

“It’s not too bad, now that we’re all talking and working together.”

“That’s good. Would it make things a little easier? Probably. But I wouldn’t change any of you if I could. I’m happy. I’ve got three amazing men who like me as I am.” She nudged his head with her own. “Even if one of them hides from me all the time.”

“I don’t hide,” Marc protested with a frown. “You just–you’ve got Jake and Steven. I don’t want to take your time away from them.”

“Marc,” Eyvor said, sitting up but only so she could hover over him, the pair of them looking at each other upside down, “I knew what I was getting myself into after Jake explained everything to me. Yes, I love Jake, and I love Steven, and I want to spend time with them, but I love you too. All of you are important to me, and I want to spend time with all of you. You’re awake pretty often, right? You said so?”

“Yeah?”

“How often are Steven and I doing our own things when he’s fronting? He reads, I do whatever. Jake cooks, and I listen to music. We spend time together, but we don’t always do something. It just changes depending on who’s here. I like all members of the Spector-Lockley-Grant household, thank you.” Marc huffed a laugh at her designation for them. “I mean it, Marc. Don’t hide behind them. I want to spend time with you too. Racing, walking, cooking, going out for those Helheim-cursed street tacos you bring back.”

“They’re good!”

“Jake’s are so much better, but I would eat one if you wanted some.” Marc didn’t reply, staring up at her and seemingly lost in thought. “What are they saying?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“I’m glad you found us.” She smiled, warmth filling her chest.

“I’m glad you found me,” she replied.

“No, you don’t get to be sappy,” Marc said, shifting and sitting up. “No.”

“You started it!” Eyvor protested with a laugh. Marc got to his feet and headed towards the bathroom, presumably to shower.

“Did not!”

“You did!”

“Nope!”

“Marc!” Eyvor exclaimed through her laughter, and he closed the door, but it did nothing to muffle his own laughter as he started the water running. She sagged back onto the floor before pushing herself to her feet with a final giggle, turning on the radio and heading towards the kitchen for something to eat for dinner. Just in case Steven finished the shower for Marc, she decided on salads, and with the gentle tones of the music mixing with Marc’s shower, Eyvor found herself completely at peace. She was happy. More importantly, she was content.

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

Eyvor giggled as the elevator doors opened, revealing the hallway to their apartment to be empty as they lugged their grocery bags back home. Marc shouldered past here with a roll of his eyes, and Eyvor followed behind, still giggling. “Stop it,” Marc grumbled.

“But it was so cute!” Eyvor protested. “Kjæreste, that child honestly thought you were their father. It was adorable!”

They’d been in the market, buying groceries along with a few other necessities, when Marc had nearly kicked a small child halfway down the aisle as it grabbed onto his pant leg. 

“Papa!” it had exclaimed, grinning up at him with two teeth, and Eyvor had cooed immediately, also hiding a smile at the shock that covered Marc’s face. “Up!”

“Uhhh.”

“Up! Papa!” Marc had looked at Eyvor for help, and she’d just motioned at the child. “Papa!” the child had cried, eyes starting to water, and seeing the impending breakdown, Marc had awkwardly picked up the child, holding it close and flinching when tiny hands patted not-so-gently on his cheeks. “Papa!”

“Charlie? Charlie!” a woman’s voice had exclaimed, and Eyvor had turned to see a frazzled woman hurrying down the aisle towards them. “Charlie, that’s not Papa, baby. I’m so sorry,” she’d apologized to Marc. Eyvor was giggling at how Marc nearly threw the child, Charlie, at the woman. “He’s away right now, and I’m afraid you do look an awful lot like him.”

“It’s fine,” Marc had replied, but Charlie had started crying.

“Papa!” she reached out for Marc with large tears starting to fall down her chubby cheeks, and Marc had winced at the sound. 

“No, baby. Papa will be home in a few weeks, remember? I’m so sorry, really.” Eyvor waved off the woman’s apologies for the both of them.

“We’ve got more shopping to do. For a little while, it should be alright, won’t it?” She’d looked at Marc, who had stared at her in betrayal, before he’d stared at Charlie, who was still crying and reaching for him, and for a moment, Eyvor was worried that he was going to duck back and let Steven or Jake take over. However, he surprised her by reaching out and taking the little girl, who immediately hugged his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. Eyvor cooed again, and Marc had glared at her, but it was such an adorable sight she couldn’t help it. They followed the woman around the store until both of them had finished their shopping, and by the time they’d handed Charlie back to her mother, the child was sound asleep and the woman was thanking them profusely as well as apologizing for the inconvenience. Marc apparently didn’t find it as endearing as Eyvor did.

“It was weird,” Marc replied as he unlocked the door to the apartment. Eyvor continued to giggle. 

“You handled it beautifully, kjæreste. I’m proud that you handled it instead of letting Jake or Steven front.”

“They were asleep,” Marc grumbled, and Eyvor shook her head fondly. They put the shopping away in peaceful silence, and Eyvor had just finished putting the soaps in the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom when she heard a loud bang, followed by Marc swearing loudly.

“Are you okay?” she called.

“Yeah,” he snapped back, pain in his voice. “Hit my head on the damn shelves again.”

“Kjæreste, those shelves haven’t moved.”

“Yeah, well, they should.” 

The shelves they were referring to were some floating shelves that Jake had put in for Eyvor to store her instruments and little trinkets she found where they wouldn’t get lost in Steven’s library. Everyone had agreed that it had been a good place for them on the one blank wall in the apartment that wasn’t covered in maps or bookshelves, but Marc had hit his head on them at least five times while putting things away since they’d gone up. 

“Well,” Eyvor replied, going back to her task of switching out the empty shampoo bottles for the new ones (four different brands, one for each of them. They’d had to get hanging shelves to go over the showerhead to fit everything), “you’re the one that put them up. It’s your fault for not putting them higher.” Marc didn’t respond to the jab. Eyvor grabbed the bottles she’d just replaced and stepped back out into the rest of the apartment. “How you manage to hit your head on them so often baffles me. You could just move the chair, you know. Or we could move the shelves. But no, you continue to complain when you hit your head every time, and then you’ve got a headache for the rest of the day. If you wanted me to fuss over you, kjæreste, there are other ways that don’t involve you–” She had put the empty bottles in the sink to wash out before they recycled them only to turn around and find Marc staring blankly into space, his hands shaking slightly. “Marc?” He didn’t answer her. She followed where he was staring, but the mirrors weren’t on that wall, so he wasn’t looking at Jake or Steven. “Marc, kjæreste, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” She’d never seen him like this. She’d never seen any of them like this. Eyvor took a careful step towards him, but he didn’t seem to notice that she’d moved. She reached out, gently touching his cheek, only for him to jerk backwards so violently that he slammed into the bookshelf, which shook and threw books and maps to the ground loudly. “Marc, it’s just me! It’s okay!” Eyvor exclaimed.

“Don’t touch me!” Marc shouted, and she gasped, backing up a bit.

“I won’t, I won’t, just tell me what’s wrong,” she replied, trying to stay calm, but he was scaring her. She didn’t know what had changed in the past few minutes to make him react this way. “We’re home, Marc, it’s okay. It’s just us.”

“I didn’t mean to, okay?”

“What, Marc? I don’t–”

“Just–leave me alone!” he yelled, pressing back against the bookshelf and making more items crash to the floor. Eyvor stepped away further.

“I will, I promise,” she replied. “I–I can leave. Would that help? I can come back for dinner? Give you some time to yourself?”

“Don’t–just–” He gripped at his head, his face flushed. “Shut up! Shut up!” Eyvor didn’t get scared often, and she certainly didn’t cry regularly, but she was frightened, not of him but for him. What had happened? Her eyes were stinging, but she blinked insistently to keep the tears at bay.

“I’ll–” Eyvor stepped towards the door, not getting any closer, “I’ll go down to the park, okay? Let me know when it’s okay for me to come back. I’ve got my phone. Take all the time you need.” Marc just grunted angrily, not moving. “Take care of him, please,” she said, hoping Jake or Steven were awake to hear it. She felt conflicted, leaving Marc alone like this, but she was obviously the cause of whatever had happened, so she thought the best thing to do was give him space away from her, let him calm down. Jake and Steven had been taking care of Marc for much longer than she had known any of them, so she was sure that they would be able to handle it. “Lock the door behind me,” she said in lieu of a goodbye, and she slipped out the door. She’d barely taken two steps when she heard the lock click, and that, more than anything, broke her heart. She walked to the park in a bit of a daze, desperately trying to keep things together. She and Jake had found this quiet section where she would feel a little bit better about losing her composure. She climbed a tall, old tree with thick branches until she was high above. It was windy today, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as some of the places she’d been, so she didn’t complain. It meant that no one could hear her as she cried into her jumper, burying her face underneath layers of clothing to muffle the sound as best she could. 

What had happened? Had hitting his head triggered something for him? But why would he react to her like that? She’d always done her best to make sure that all of the boys knew that she would never, ever hurt them. She loved them all, so very much, and she wouldn’t ever hurt them. Sure, she and Jake sometimes knocked shoulders, but she wasn’t the type of person to slap a shoulder or punch an arm when she could hug or pat instead. Especially when Jake and Steven were more than happy to give her a kiss whenever she wanted. Even Marc had been making an effort to spend more time with her and had shyly started cuddling closer during movie nights. She’d tried her hardest to love them, to make sure they knew she loved them. What had happened?

It was dark by the time she heard any kind of noise aside from the general ambience of the park and the city. Her phone remained dark and silent. She’d long-since run out of tears and had come no closer to figuring out what had gone wrong. There was movement at the base of the tree, and a glance below her showed a familiar flat cap. Within a few minutes, he was sitting on the branch next to her, the pair of them hidden by the leaves.

“Is he okay?” she whispered.

“He will be, mi amor.” Maybe she hadn’t run out of tears after all.

“What did I do, Jake?” Her voice was shaking already. “I didn’t mean to, whatever it was. I would never–”

“I know, gotita,” Jake said, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “You didn’t know.”

“It was something I did though. I promise.”

“We told him, mi rosa. He’s sleeping now. He’ll be okay.” She hid her face in Jake’s neck and cried. He didn’t try to comfort her anymore. They both knew it wouldn’t do any good. He just held her, strong and silent, until the last of her tears dried and they climbed down out of the tree, making their way back home arm in arm. The exhaustion weighing down every step Jake took told her that even though he was okay, the after effects of what had happened were still there, and although Jake pulled her into bed with him to spoon, as soon as he was sound asleep, she got up and sat in the window that was letting in the cool night air. She felt too guilty and sad to sleep. 

The horizon was just beginning to turn blue-purple when she heard movement from the bed, but she didn’t move. “Mornin’, love,” Steven said, coming to stand behind her and look out at the city.

“Good morning, solskinn.” Gentle, hesitant hands took ahold of her hand and cupped her chin, turning her to face his rumpled visage.

“Didn’t sleep at all, did you?” he questioned, giving her a sad look.

“Couldn’t,” she replied. “Go back to sleep, solskinn, it’s early. You don’t have work for another few hours.”

“Not gonna even try? ‘S not good for ya, you know.” She couldn’t stop the fond smile that tugged at her lips.

“I know. Not tonight, Steven. Get some more sleep.” He sighed, squeezing her hand gently and giving her the sweetest kiss before shuffling back to bed, his breathing evening out shortly after. She watched him fondly for a few more minutes before shifting back to observe the city waking up for the day. By the time Steven’s alarm went off, she had left her perch in the window to shower and was finishing packing him lunch to take with him to work.

“Oh, you didn’t hafta do that, love,” Steven protested. “I was gonna get to it.”

“I don’t mind. Hurry. You’re gonna be late if you stick around longer.” He gave her a quick kiss, grabbing his gas in a whirlwind of emotion, and was out the door with a call of “see ya in a bit, love!”. Eyvor sighed in the silence he had left in his wake, alone with the fish and her thoughts. Just pulled down her instruments and quietly played songs, humming along to tunes she hadn’t heard in such a long time. It was a solace, to lose herself in the music. When her fingers were protesting, she put them away and started cleaning up the apartment. Apparently Jake or Steven had cleaned up all the books and things that had fallen yesterday, but there were other chores that needed to get done around the place, and she moved from one to the other, grateful for the distraction. She had just finished cleaning the fish tank when her phone rang. “Hello?” she answered as she finished drying her hands from the water.

“Eat, gotita,” Jake’s voice said through the speaker.

“I was cleaning the tank,” she protested.

“You’re distracting yourself. Eat.” She huffed.

“Did you call just to tell me that? I’ll have you know I’m older than you, Jake Lockley.”

“I did. And you’re my girlfriend. I get to tell you what to do.”

“Only when I let you. But I’ll make myself something. Sjefete.”

“Pictures or I won’t believe you.”

“I know you don’t treat the others like this!” she exclaimed as she pulled some of the enchiladas Jake had made a few nights ago out of the fridge.

“I can deal with them myself.” Eyvor huffed. 

“I’m heating up the enchiladas. Happy?”

“Pictures, rosa de sangre.”

“I’ll send them. Let Steven get back to work. Elsker deg.”

“Te amo.”

She didn’t feel like leaving the apartment, and she had run out of things to do, so she pulled her lyre back out, sitting on the floor underneath the tank to listen to the water bubbling as she began playing old songs. To anyone else in the room, they would’ve only heard her slow playing and quiet voice, but Eyvor was hearing the sound of times long past, her father’s voice and the sounds of tired Midgardians making music in the late night. Music she rarely heard anymore created melodys in her mind, and even though she was alone, she could feel her father’s smile on her as if he were in the room with her. Eventually, she stopped singing, only playing absently. Her father had always told her that he wasn’t some great inspiration for the skalds of old; he just told them to let their mind play through their words and their hands. It was a sad song that poured from her fingers through the lyre, mournful and full of regret. It felt like the only way she could express herself right now. Her words didn’t feel like enough. She couldn’t apologize to Marc enough for whatever it was that she had done. 

A soft sound pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts, and through the tears that clouded her vision, she found Marc sitting on the floor several feet from her, watching. Her fingers stilled, the instrument falling limp into her lap.

“Hi,” he said softly. He didn’t seem angry.

“Hi,” she whispered back, her voice rough from the tears. He just stared at her, and the tears that had been falling slowly but steadily sped up. “I’m so sorry.” Her words wobbled dangerously. “I don’t–whatever I did, I’m so sorry. I would never–” Her throat closed up on her, making words impossible.

“I know,” Marc replied. “I’m sorry too.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re allowed to feel things. I just–I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Steven said you didn’t sleep last night.”

“I couldn’t–if you still wanted space, I–” Her words cut off again as she swiped at her face with her sleeves, trying to pull herself together.

“It was an accident,” Marc said, scooting a little closer. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“What–what did I do, Marc?” Eyvor whispered. “I don’t–”

“It’s what you said, that’s all. When I was a kid, my mom–she–” Eyvor had seen enough from her peeks back on the boat to know, even if he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized again. Marc shook his head again.

“No, Eyvor,” he insisted. “I know it’s easier to blame yourself, but–I mean it. It’s not your fault. I–” He knocked on his head with a wry smile. “I’m a mess in here. You accidentally pushed a button, that’s all. I’m sorry I shouted at you.” Eyvor set her lyre down and cautiously crawled across the floor, reaching a hand out for him. He allowed her into his space, and she cupped his face, pressing their foreheads together as she closed her eyes. 

“I love you so much, Marc Spector,” she whispered into the air between them. “Even if it was an accident, I’m sorry I caused you pain for even a second.”

“I know,” he breathed, his hands gripping onto her wrists gently. “I–don’t think I knew how much until Jake had to go find you, and Steven told me you didn’t sleep because of it. I knew you said it, but–”

“I’ve always meant it. I don’t like lying to you, kjæreste.” She felt a sting, remembering the secret she and Jake were keeping from Marc and Steven. She didn’t like it, but it was up to Jake to decide when to tell them.

“No, I know, I just–”

“You still love Layla. That’s okay. I meant what I said in Egypt, kjæreste. I’m fine with us being friends.”

“No,” Marc repeated. “Layla–I do love her, but–not like I did. I–” She pulled back a bit, though he kept ahold of her wrists to hold his face, and he looked at her with warm eyes that made her smile a bit through the tears that were still dripping down her face. “It’s why I’ve been hiding, like you put it.” Eyvor tilted her head in confusion.

“Hm?”

“You already have Jake and Steven. I didn’t want to bother you, but–”

“You aren’t a bother to me, kjæreste; I–”

“No, I know, but–I love you too, and I didn’t want to–”

“You–” They kept interrupting each other, so eager to convince the other one of what they were saying, but Eyvor couldn’t stop the smile that spread wider. “Do you mean it?” Marc nodded, his face flushing in embarrassment.

“I mean it.” She leaned closer again, giving him time to pull back, but he met her in a kiss that was so different from Jake or Steven. It was hesitant, careful, as if at any moment he expected her to pull away and laugh at him and didn’t want to push too hard. For someone who was usually so sure of himself, it broke her heart a little. When they broke apart for air, she gave him the widest grin that she could muster, and the smile he gave her in return warmed her right down to her toes. 

“I love you so much, Marc Spector,” she breathed. “Please don’t ever doubt that.” He leaned forward to press their foreheads together again.

“I won’t. I promise.”

They stayed there on the floor until their legs started falling asleep, and only then did they move.