Chapter 6
“’Allo Larry, ‘allo Moe, how are we today?” Steven asked the goldfish as he sprinkled some fish flakes over the top of the tank while in a bubbly mood. Marc rolled his eyes.
“They’re fish, they’re the same everyday.” He said sarcastically. Steven's hair flopped about as he shook his head at their reflection in the tank’s glass and frowned slightly.
“You don’t know that Marc. They could be having a bad day, maybe they had a bad dream ‘bout sharks noshing on them or summat.” He mused thoughtfully.
“Once again they are fish. They don’t dream.” Marc insisted stubbornly.
“You never know, they do sleep after all, they could dream.” Steven offered as he sat down on a chair next to a precariously stacked pile of books about vampires.
“They still aren’t going to reply to you.” Marc said as his other half shuffled through some of his handwritten notes.
“That’s not the point, it’s good manners to greet people in the morning.” Steven said distractedly as he tried to peer down at his jottings without his glasses. He wasn’t quite sure where they’d gotten to in their mess of a flat; he should probably pick up another pair. Marc snorted.
“Yes, people, not fish. Why are we even arguing about this?” He snapped, annoyed. Steven glanced over at a mirror.
“Cuz you started it, like always. Who’s a gloomy Gus?” He pointed playfully at a mirror. “You are.” Marc winced.
“Do you have to always bring up that name.” He complained. Steven ducked his head apologetically and grabbed at the back of his neck.
“Oh, ah bollocks…my bad.” Marc sighed and took his phone out of his pocket and started browsing through it. When Steven noticed Marc smirking in their shared reflection he started to pay attention to the phone as well. “Wotcha lookn’ at Marc?” The phone showed a short snippet of the video that they had seen a few days ago of Señor Noche getting beaten by the vampires and run over by a truck, but now whenever he got hit it sounded like someone crunching Doritos.
“TikTok. They’ve made a bunch of memes of that new moon guy. Ha, this one is called Señor Nacho.” Marc thumbed the screen and showed some more of the videos to Steven. “There’s another one called Nacho Libre and this one with the same video set to that Kit Kat candy bar song ‘Give Me a Break’. ” He snickered unkindly. Steven looked away from the mobile.
“That’s kinda mean innit?” Marc gestured with the phone.
“Yeah, but funny.” He countered.
“Still tho...” Steven trailed off uncertainly.
“Admit it, you think his name is hilarious too don’t you?” He asked pointedly. Steven ran a spare hand through his messy curls.
“Weeelll, I confess it doesn’t quite roll off the tongue the way something like Mr. Knight would have.” He replied reluctantly. Marc stiffened and stared in faint disgust at the mirror.
“That’s the name you would have gone with then? With a K? As in knight of the round table, knight?” He slowly asked.
“And why not?” Steven asked back defensively while pulling his hands up to his chest. Marc sighed resignedly.
“I don’t know, its great I guess, matches with the whole psycho Colonel Sanders thing you had going, not that it matters now anyways.” Steven slumped back in the chair, put down the phone and twiddled his fingers together on his lap.
“I suppose not, yea?” He abruptly straightened up and tapped on the phone. “But you should still lay off the new guy a bit, after all he’s just a rookie. The vamps seemed really tough too.” Marc shook his head.
“They looked it, but rookie or not his body count has been rising like crazy.” Steven nodded in agreement.
“Facts, he makes you look like a right sweetie in comparison.” He said with a sideways peek towards him.
“Thanks for that.” He remarked flatly. Steven continued animatedly.
“I mean he’s already got like three caffs worth of dead people, and that’s just the ones we’ve heard about on the news!” Marc cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“When I was Moon Knight, Khonshu was constantly ordering me to kill people too. It was all I could do to convince him that only the most heinous were deserving of death. If I’d listened to him every time there would have been a hundred times the amount of blood on my hands.” Steven reached out a hand to his own shoulder and gingerly patted it.
“Sorry Marc.” He said. Marc brushed his hand off with the other one.
“S’fine. But it looks like this fella is just doing everything Khonshu tells him to do and not pushing back against him at all.” Steven cocked his head.
“Do you think he was maybe forced to do his bidding, like you were?” He wondered, concerned. Marc shrugged.
“I don’t know, but I know I’d love to have a chat with this guy.” Steven nodded.
“Me too, I’d hate to think that overgrown chicken is manipulating some other poor chap.” Steven abruptly clasped his hands together and looked up brightly. “Oooh, do you think maybe if we got a spotlight, like Batman-“
“No.” Marc interrupted sternly.
“Wait but I haven’t finished-.”
“I know what you’re going to say, and we are not and I repeat not putting a spotlight on a roof to try to signal this Noche guy.” Steven crossed his arms and actually pouted. He really hated seeing that expression on his face.
“Why not, it could work.” Steven said. Marc leaned in close to the mirror on the table in front of them and held up three fingers one at a time.
“No, it won’t, first, its ridiculous, secondly, who knows if he’d even know it was for him or if he’d bother to show up, thirdly, do you think we are the only ones looking for him?” Marc asked as he raised an eyebrow. Steven’s eyes nervously darted away from him.
“Well I suppose with his body count being what it is, er…no?” Marc gripped the mirror and pulled it closer.
“No. The police, the press, those with some kind of relation to those he’s killed, hell, at least half of London are out looking for him. We do something like that and shine something like a crescent moon spotlight into the sky; we’ll likely get everyone but him. And that’s not even including those vampires or whatever they were…and don’t forget I’ve made plenty of enemies as well when I had the job and we don’t have the suit anymore to protect us...” He trailed off angrily. Steven put the mirror down lightly with a soft thunk.
“Right yea, didn’t think it through mate.”
“No, you didn’t.” Marc said coldly.
“Guess we’ll have to leave him alone then.” Steven said dejectedly.
“Yep. Nothing we can do about it.” Marc stated. Steven considered for a minute, he then plucked up his courage again and asked hesitatingly.
“Er…ah what about Khonshu? If we can’t get the new guy maybe we can contact him at least, not that I’d want to… But we might find out from him who exactly this Noche gent is and then go from there. Don’t suppose you have Khonshu’s mobile number?” He glared at him. Steven chuckled uneasily. “Yea, thought not.” Marc’s eyes slowly faded out of focus and he gripped his chin in one hand.
“Hmm.”
“What?” Steven asked. Marc quickly put his hand back down and leaned back in the chair.
“Nothing.” He said succinctly. Steven tapped against the mirror.
“Oy no, really, you’ve thought of something haven’t you, what was it?” He asked persistently.
“Prayer.” Marc whispered unwillingly.
“Wat?” Steven asked.
“We could try praying.” He said in a slightly louder voice.
“To Khonshu?” He asked incredulously.
“Yeah.” He replied simply. Steven thought for a moment.
“Huh, well, he is a God, but would that actually work?” Marc got up to get a drink from the full bottle he’d stashed in the closet; he wasn’t going to be able to do something this silly without some hard alcohol in his system.
“No idea, never tried before.” Marc found the whisky bottle empty on the floor of the closet. “Shit.” He didn’t remember drinking it, and Steven was teetotal, maybe he really was losing it. More than he thought anyway.
“Let’s give it go then, nothing ventured nothing gained and all that.” Steven said happily, smiling as he took the empty bottle and tossed it in the bin back in the kitchenette, glad he didn’t have to taste that awful body destroying stuff. They kneeled on the floor in front of the sand ring surrounding the bed. Marc put his head on the ground and placed his hands to either side of his head. Then he prayed to Khonshu and asked the God to appear before them as politely as he possibly could.
“Did it work?” Steven asked after fifteen or so minutes of dull silence. Marc lifted himself up and looked around the room.
“Don’t see him.” He said, not terribly surprised or disappointed. If he never saw Khonshu again it would be far too soon.
“Guess not then.” Steven sighed. “So do you think it didn’t work because it never would have worked or cuz he’s refusing to come see us?” He questioned curiously. Marc stood up and dusted off his pants. He hated all the sand in the place; it got in and on everything. But Steven had a thing about it, that and that bloody ankle cuff. Great, just great now he was starting to sound like Steven even in his own head. He had been trying to get him to go to sleep without that at least, but he always ended up putting it back on as soon as Marc drifted off, it was like a security blanket or something. Whatever, so long as it made him happy he supposed he could learn to live with it.
“Who knows? But if he knows that we wanted to talk some sense into his shiny new avatar, he certainly wouldn’t let him anywhere near us if he could help it.”
“That bloody buzzard.” Steven cursed helplessly. Marc walked over to the window and peered down onto the street.
“Let’s go out.” He said suddenly. Steven perked up.
“Out? Out where?”
“I want to check up on my apartment.” Marc moved back to the closet to pick out his jacket.
“You have an apartment?” Steven asked interestedly.
“Yeah, the one that I used to share with Layla, it’s about 20 minutes away from here. Haven’t checked in on it in a while.” Marc said.
“Oh righ’, course you’d have your own flat, forgot you were rich for a second. Don’t know why, but I just pictured you kipping out all the time in that depressing little storage unit.” Steven said with an awkward grin.
“That was just one of my safe houses for emergencies.” Marc offered. Steven’s eyes widened.
“You have more than one?” He probed. Marc scoffed.
“Of course.” He checked out their reflection in the bathroom mirror as he was brushing back his hair. “You’re not gonna get all pissy again and harp on about keeping secrets and all that garbage are you?” Steven smiled gently at him.
“Nope, not at all. I’m just glad you’re willing to share this with me now.” Marc nodded once sharply, secretly relieved.
“Good, lets go then, we can practice talking in our head more while we’re out in public.” They locked up and left the flat and started out into the street. It wouldn’t be a long walk and they could use the fresh air. Steven retreated inside their mind, letting Marc lead the way to his apartment. Since the ‘bookshop incident’ as they’d taken to calling it, they’d been working on and off on trying to communicate with each other covertly within their own mind. They’d lost a lot of the walls built up between the two of them post Harrow, and had had problems communicating without accidentally taking over the body and speaking that way. Like a greased up slide, it was just too effortless and easy to slip into their body. It was truly difficult to go back to speaking with just their minds to each other. It felt like trying to ride a bicycle backwards and up a hill, in a rainstorm.
‘OY!’ Steven shouted loudly in their head. Marc grimaced and grabbed at his forehead, feeling a piercing pain.
“Ow. Too loud.” He said.
‘kay.’ Steven whispered faintly.
“I barely heard you.” Marc said.
“You know this is a lot harder without using a reflective surface.” Steven said out loud, frustrated.
“Keep working on it.” Marc ordered.
‘I am.’ He insisted in their head. Marc slapped his hands together.
“There, that was good!” He said. A couple of passerby looked over at him and then away again as he crossed the street.
‘Hmph. Why don’t you try thinking to me?’ Steven grumbled.
‘…’ Silence echoed in their shared brain space.
‘Are you doing it yet?’ Steven asked.
‘…’
“You can’t hear me?” Marc asked as he gave up and spoke out loud.
‘No.’ He responded. Marc tried harder.
‘…4,5,6,7-‘ His counting gradually reached into Steven’s mind.
‘I hear you!’ He shouted excitedly. Marc was relieved he’d finally made some progress.
‘Good.’
‘We’re getting better at this.’ Steven said, pleased.
‘At least we won’t have to worry anymore about being recorded and turning into a meme on TikTok like Noche.’ Marc said.
‘That would have been embarrassing.’ Steven agreed wholeheartedly.
-Cue Song- Talking in Your Sleep, by The Romantics-
Fun Fact:
Finally named the fish! Super lowkey thrilled about it, took me a while to figure them out, also cut this chapter cuz it was getting too long…