The Goldfish Problem
It had been awhile since Jake last fronted. He guessed it had been a couple weeks, give or take. He was okay with that. Usually he only fronted when the system he was in needed protected, whether it was physically or emotionally. Steven was certainly not one for confrontation, and Marc tended to get himself into situations that only Jake knew how to find his way out of.
He didn't mind, really. He embraced his role as protector of the system, even if it meant he didn't get to front that often. He lived vicariously through Marc and Steven most of the time, almost always aware of what was going on without having a need to be a part of it. Very rarely did he ever feel lonely. He considered himself a lone wolf type anyway.
When he fronted this time, he found himself at the museum where he knew Steven worked, currently being shouted at by Steven's boss, Donna.
Well no wonder the kid retreated, Jake thought, and raised an eyebrow at the woman.
"Hey lady, listen here," he began, allowing his thick New York accent to drip into his words. "I have no idea what you're yelling at me for, but I suggest you shut the fuck up before I introduce you to my pals here," he said, raising his fists.
Donna looked momentarily taken aback before regaining her composure. "Are you threatening me, Stevie?" She asked. "Do you want to keep this job? Or would you rather me throw you out to the streets?"
Jake stopped to think for a moment. Well, certainly can't have Steven losing his job. Poor kid would never recover.
"Tell you what," Jake began again. "How 'bout I don't kick your ass, and you let me keep my job, eh? Seems like a pretty square deal to me."
Donna would never admit it, but Jake could see the fear in her eyes. He couldn't help but smirk a bit.
"How about you get back to work and I won't report you to HR for threatening your boss?" She retaliated.
Jake shrugged. "Alright, we got a deal." He simply nodded at her, as he did not want to shake hands with a woman as sour as she was.
She huffed and walked away, leaving Jake alone with the job that was usually Steven's. He looked down and realized that he had no idea what he was doing.
Steven, I have no idea how you deal with all of this all damn day, he thought, and started doing what he believed Steven was supposed to be doing. He grabbed the scanning gun on the countertop and started scanning items, putting them into the basket in front of him.
To be honest, Jake really didn't care if he was doing Steven's job correctly. He knew that Donna wouldn't bother him anymore today regardless of how well he was doing. As long as Steven kept his job, everything would be fine. Neither Steven nor Marc had any idea of Jake's existence and that was certainly not how he wanted to introduce himself. Not that he wanted to introduce himself period. He figured the system was safer not knowing about his existence anyway.
Jake stood there for probably half an hour mindlessly scanning items before he was overcome with boredom. He started paying close attention to the tours walking through the lobby of the museum. There were five tour guides, each tour left about ten minutes apart, and every hour he'd say the same tour guide again. One in particular caught his attention.
She was a gorgeous woman, with curly hair that grew past her shoulders and a smile that was whiter than his own. He watched her guide two different tours before he finally decided to approach her.
"You deal with people much better than I do," he said, walking up to her while she waited for her next tour group to arrive.
She turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"I've been standing over there for the last three hours trying to inventory all that shit and dealing with surly customers. You do it all day, and you're good at it."
She blushed a bit. "You've been watching me?"
Jake smirked. He had her reeled in now. "Well, you're the prettiest tour guide I've seen go through here today. Much more interesting to look at than those damn stuffed animals."
She chuckled. "You smoke? I was about to step outside for a break."
He thanked his lucky stars. He'd been dying for a cigarette since he started fronting. "Sure, I can take 15."
He followed her outside and they sat on the steps up to the museum. "I'm Dylan, by the way. Need a smoke?"
"Desperately," he replied. He took the cigarette she offered him and she lit it for him. Jake's shoulders immediately fell as the tension he'd been holding was released with the first puff of smoke. "I'm Steven," he said, not wanting to reveal his actual name in case she decided to talk to him when he wasn't fronting. It was something he was used to, pretending to be Marc or Steven. Very rarely was he ever able to be Jake Lockley, and he suspected that only Khonshu knew who he really was. Maybe some kids from their early childhood knew. He didn't remember too much about it, and he suspected he didn't really want to. That was Marc's trauma. Jake had his own to deal with.
"How long have you been working here, Steven? I don't remember seeing you around."
Jake shrugged. "A month. Maybe two. I don't talk to a lot of people around here. You're the first person I've met here that's worth talking to." That much wasn't a lie at least, since he knew Steven didn't have any friends around here either, despite what he believed about that security guard. JP or whatever the hell his name was. It wasn't worth remembering, in Jake's opinion.
Dylan's laugh reverberated throughout the area. Jake decided that he liked her.
"You got that right. I only stick around because I'm a major history nerd. I tried for a job at the British Museum but it was a bit too pretentious for my liking."
Her and Steven would get along, Jake thought, and was surprised at the pang of hurt that came along with it. Then, another thought came through his head.
"You like steak?" He asked her.
She shrugged. "I mean, who doesn't?"
"Me and you. Friday night. Best steak in town. What do you say?" He asked, completely forgetting that Steven was a vegan. Ah, one steak won't kill him.
She smiled. "Are you asking me out?"
Jake smirked. "I mean, if you're gonna label it," he replied with a wink.
She scoffed. "You're good. Give me your mobile, I'll give you my number."
Jake obliged and couldn't help but wonder who would be fronting on Friday night. I'll be lucky if I get to go on this date. Maybe it'll be a good thing for Stevie to put himself out there. Or maybe Marc will finally get over that Layla he's supposed to be moving on from.
Dylan smiled as she handed back Jake's phone, then turned to put out her cigarette. "I've got to get back inside but I'll see you later, yeah?"
Jake nodded as she walked off. He looked down at his phone and saw she had put herself in as "Dylan ;)". He really hoped she wouldn't be disappointed come Friday night.
It felt a little odd to be fronting for a whole day, since Jake was used to fronting primarily in moments where Marc and Steven were in trouble. He supposed it would be good for the two idiots to get their rest in. Steven believed he had a sleeping disorder, and thus often kept the body awake for longer than it needed to be. Steven was almost always tired, especially since he recently had been fronting even more than Marc did. Jake knew that of the three of them, Steven probably needed to sleep the most, especially putting up with all the bullshit that he did at work. That Donna really did take a lot of you.
Well, if I'm gonna be here for the whole day, might as well take advantage of it.
He looked down at his phone and remembered that he hadn't yet told Dylan where they could meet.
You: friday night at 7? we could meet at JW. best steak in town
Dylan ;): sounds great :) can't wait to see you
Jake decided that he'd take it easy for the rest of the day. Maybe he'd take a walk and explore London (after all it couldn't be that much different from New York, right?) or actually sit down and enjoy a proper meal.
"Or, you could get back to work," Khonshu said.
Jake groaned. "And here I was thinkin' I'd finally get a break from you."
"Harrow is still looking for the scarab. It is crucial that we find it before he does."
"Well, that's not exactly my line of work, is it?"
Despite feeling a little sorry for Steven, whom Jake knew was incredibly lonely, Jake was thankful that his flat always felt so empty. Having four different voices in his head, including his own, was more than enough to keep one man company.
"Marc is sleeping. That means the responsibility falls on you, does it not? That is what we agreed upon."
Jake rolled his eyes. "And what about it?"
"Harrow is on his way to Germany. He believes there's a lead that will take him right to Ammit."
Instead of going out to eat, Jake decided he'd risk Steven noticing that some of his food was missing so that he could cook some pasta. He doubted it'd be a huge deal, and the kid would probably just assume he was being forgetful. Besides, Jake was really craving some Italian-style spaghetti.
"If he's looking for a lead, it means Harrow don't have it yet. And he ain't GONNA get it. If we have to, we'll go to Germany. But it ain't gonna be tonight, got it?"
"You would let Harrow get the scarab? And for what?"
"Listen here ya old bird. If I show up to Germany, Marc and Steven are gonna be real confused, and I risk exposing myself to them. You already know Marc wants nothing to do with you. If you want to continue using this body for your 'vengeance', I'm your best bet. Marc and Steven finding out about me and your plans fall through. If you want to go anywhere, you'll have to talk to Marc, not to me." He shook his head as he threw his pasta into the pot of boiling water. "Pájaro estúpido," he mumbled under his breath.
Khonshu groaned and Jake could feel his presence dissipate. If Jake had had any say in it, the three of them wouldn't have any dealings with Khonshu in the first place. There was no way Jake would have let Bushman get the upper hand on them. Unfortunately, though, that was Marc's doing, and the best Jake could do is deal with the aftermath.
And deal he did.
As much as Marc owed to Khonshu, Jake owed just as much.
The smell of his sauce burning on the stove top was enough to snap Jake out of his thoughts. "Mierda!"
He removed the sauce from the burner and fanned the air with a dishrag. Of the three of them, Jake was certainly the cook, but that didn't mean he was necessarily great at it. Sure, he'd learned a lot from watching people in New York and Chicago, but he'd come to the conclusion years ago that their body was just not meant to cook.
As he struggled to limit contain the smoke and save his spaghetti, he could feel himself beginning to disassociate. Good luck, Steven, he thought, and with that, he was back in the confines of their mind, waiting for the next time they needed him.
The next time he fronted, it was very obvious why. Either Marc or Steven had let the scarab get pried from his hand and were now being held by several men who likely planned to hurt them.
Idiots, he thought, before he got to work.
He kneed the man in front of him right in the groin, watching as he fell to his knees in pain. The sudden reaction seemed to startle the two men holding his arms, and the momentary lapse in concentration gave Jake an opportunity. He elbowed the man on his left in the face, then reached for the knife the man held in his other hand. With it, he stabbed the man on his left in his side before turning to the man on his right, whose eyes had widened in fear.
It was Jake's favorite look, and it brought a twisted smile to his face.
Jake brought the knife down to the man's chest and watched as he fell to the ground, dead.
"Bet you wish you hadn't fucked with us now, huh?" Jake grinned, kicked the face of the man whose groin he smashed earlier, stomped on him, and turned back to the man on his left, who was still keeled over in pain. Jake decided to go ahead and end his suffering, stabbing him three more times and watched as he rolled over, dead. He looked up and locked eyes with Arthur Harrow, a man whom he'd not yet met but could simply tell who he was. He gave off weird vibes and Jake didn't like it one bit.
Finally, he turned to the man who had taken the scarab from them. He grabbed his wrist and stabbed his hand repeatedly, enjoying the cries of pain as he held his wrist with one hand and grabbed the scarab with the other. He threw the knife into his skull and watched as he collapsed, right as he began disassociating. He had done his job. He hoped Marc could do his.
What Jake had not realized was that it was not Marc who was doing most of the fronting, but Steven. As much became clear when he fronted again with a man next to him, cupcake in his face, and Jake's hand covered in the same cupcake. A car was driving next to them, gun pointed at the window, and Wham's Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go was blasting on the radio. "For fuck's sake, Steven."
Jake grabbed the gun out of the man's hand and shot him with it, not even checking to see if he hit him. He then grabbed the steering wheel of the cupcake van and rammed it into the car next to them. The van, being much larger than the car, crushed the car so that the man in the passenger seat was likely killed. The driver was persistent, though, and took two shots at him.
"I think the fuck not," Jake said, and took the gun he had stolen from the other man and shot at the car. He missed the driver, but he did hit one of his tires, and the car stopped moving, and Jake took the cupcake van and sped up, going as fast as its engine would let it go. "You idiots are gonna get us killed," he grumbled under his breath, feeling himself start to disassociate again. He hoped he was still alive when he fronted again.
Jake thanked his lucky stars he was still alive. Not only alive, but home. Or, at least, what Steven considered to be home. He wasn't locked in Steven's ankle restraint, and he wondered if Marc had simply been too exhausted to remember to latch himself up. He glanced over to see Marc's phone sitting on the table.
"Marc, your dumbass is lucky I'm the one who woke up."
Marc was usually very meticulous about making sure Steven didn't discover he existed. Jake suspected that it was only a matter of time before Steven began to put the pieces together. He was a smart kid, if a little naïve.
Jake sat up in the bed, and the first thing he noticed was the fish floating belly up in the tank across the room.
"Oh fuck."
He stepped over the sand Steven had laid down and made his way over the aquarium. He tapped on the glass, but he knew it was no use. Steven's fish was dead.
For a brief moment, Jake began to panic, even though he knew he wasn't the one who killed the fish. Marc was the one who had taken them to Germany to try and steal the scarab. Still, he grumbled. Steven would for sure break down if he found his only friend dead in his tank. Marc clearly needed to sleep, since he was the one who had awoken in Steven's bed, so he supposed that left Jake to clean up Marc's mess. Nothing he wasn't used to.
Jake sighed and grabbed a cup from Steven's cabinet that he could use to scoop out the dead fish, and he threw the poor fish down the toilet to flush it away.
Now, Jake had no issue with buying Steven a new fish, but where the trouble lied was how the hell he was supposed to find another fish with one fin. Gus had meant the world to Steven, his "little one-finned wonder" he called him, and now he was dead. Jake had a feeling this meant only bad news for Marc, but Jake would do what he could.
Jake grabbed his favorite hat from the bottom of Steven's wardrobe and a random pair of pants and a plain white shirt. Marc tended to keep his clothes in the bottom of the wardrobe, and Steven just assumed it was clothes that didn't fit or that he didn't wear anymore. Jake was a little surprised that Steven hadn't gotten rid of them yet, since the man had a bit too much time on his hands, but he supposed it was also like Steven to stay a bit disorganized, despite what he would tell you.
There were plenty of pet stores in London, but he seriously doubted any of them would have a fish with only one fin. The closest store to Steven's flat was a small shop run by a young woman with short, black hair. He could tell that she was going to annoy him, but getting Steven a replacement fish was Jake's priority at the moment.
"Good morning! What can I do for you?" She asked him.
He cleared his throat. "I'm uh.. I'm trying to find a fish with only one fin." He told her.
She frowned and raised her eyebrow at him. "We don't sell that kind of fish here."
There it was. The snark he expected from her right when he walked in. "Look, lady. I accidentally killed my... friend's fish. He only had one fin and I'm just tryna find a replacement. Now you can be helpful by telling me where I might be able to find a fish like that."
She crossed her arms. "Listen, I don't know what to tell you. I don't know of any pet stores that are gonna sell a fish like that. It's not like we got actively searching for disabled fish. Now, if you're not going to buy anything, please get the hell out of my store."
Jake didn't know why he woke up instead of Marc, and it was starting to annoy him. This was not what he was made for.
"Fine. Get me a goldfish."
Jake walked out with the new fish and a tight frown. Steven was for sure going to know. The man was way too curious for his own good. Plus, waking up in the middle of the middle of the fight in Germany likely didn't help Marc's case. Shit was going hit the fan, and it was going to happen soon.
When Jake returned and put the fish in his new home, he hit the bed, exhausted. Marc or Steven would surely wake up soon, and he was going to bed prepared when they did. He checked Marc's phone, and saw that it was Saturday.
Saturday. The day after Friday. The date. Fuck.
They had been in Germany instead of at that steak house. He should kill Marc for that. Or Khonshu. One of the two of them. Poor Steven was going to be heartbroken. Jake had seen them interact on Thursday, and Steven had been so excited to finally have a date with a woman. Of course, Marc had to go fuck that up too.
Not that it was really Marc's fault. He had a life of his own, just as Steven did, and just as Jake did.
Well, just as Jake pretended he did.
A yawn reminded Jake that he was not going to be awake for much longer, and he quickly got his shit together so that if it was Steven that woke up, he wouldn't notice anything was off. Other than the fish of course.
He knew where Marc hid his phone and storage locker key (the man really couldn't hide anything from Jake), and he quickly put them away in the hole, not doing a great job covering the whole with the paneling, but he figured Steven wouldn't notice anything anyway.
When Jake hit the bed, he could feel himself disassociating, and he quickly did the ankle restraint for Steven. Even though Steven discovering Marc was inevitable at this point, Jake figured it was still best to try and leave him in the dark for as long as possible.
He cared way too much about their system to watch it fall apart now.