Ouroboros
“I really think I’ve got it this time.”
She heard Jake chuckle a little as they walked up the stairs to Zara’s apartment, holding the groceries for her as she rummaged through her pockets for the key. “Of course, cariño. I have total faith in you.”
The lock clicked open and she swung the door wide, raising an eyebrow at him. “And what would I do without your undying belief in my cooking abilities?”
Jake cracked a grin, following her down the hallway towards the kitchen. “Fail miserably, of course.”
Zara let out a chuckle, tossing her key on the counter as she rounded the wall separating the hall and the kitchen ahead of him. “You’re so full of – Jesus Christ!”
“That’s more of a Christian thing – “
Without thinking Zara had thrown whatever was in her hands at the woman standing across the room, which of course, just so happened to be the canister of garlic powder she’d just bought. Zara released a breath, running her hand through her hair. “You do realise you can call first, right?”
“What is with everybody throwing food at me?” Yelena queried, slowly lowering the garlic powder she’d caught moments before it would’ve nailed her in the forehead. “Everybody is so aggressive these days.”
“Kind of comes with the territory when you keep breaking into my apartment.” Zara told her, just barely stifling her grin.
“Technically,” Yelena raised her hands. “This is Dreykov’s apartment.”
“And he’s dead, so, fuck him.” Zara raised her chin. “I’m claiming this one. What’s he gonna do? Sue me?”
Yelena snorted. “Knowing that fucker, he’d have a way to do it from the grave.”
She heard Jake let out a low whistle behind her, and she nodded to Yelena, beckoning her forward. “What’s up? Has something happened?”
Yelena sauntered forward, scanning the man behind her. “Hi, Marc Spector. Long-time no see.” She didn’t drop her gaze, slowly depositing the garlic on the kitchen bench. “Glad to see you haven’t been murdered. That’s a win for you.”
Jake shifted slightly, his voice coming out a perfect mimic of Marc’s – so perfect, in fact, that Zara genuinely wasn’t sure if they’d switched.
“Well, I owe most of that to you, so thanks,” he responded, putting the bags on the bench. “And, uh – sorry I shot at you.”
Yelena actually grinned. “And thank you for dropping that god-awful accent.” She grimaced, furrowing her brows very seriously. “It did not sound cool.”
Zara busied herself with the cooking, and Yelena nodded to her. “What are you making?”
“Kushari,” Zara told her, throwing the man beside her a sideways glance. “I’m a cooking prodigy, as it turns out.”
He snorted. “And delusional.”
Zara smacked him on the shoulder with the wooden spoon.
“Ay cariño, not my good jacket!” He exclaimed, jumping backward. Zara grinned. So it was still Jake after all. “Watch where you’re swinging that!”
Zara rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”
“Ooh, I love Egyptian food,” Yelena murmured, focused as always on what was important. “It was my favourite part about coming to save your sorry ass all those years ago.”
“Khorosho, suka.” Zara raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what’s up. You didn’t come here just to steal my food.”
“You got me,” Yelena finally relented, leaning back and raising her hands. Then she leaned back over the bench, lowering her voice. “I need your help.”
“And after you just complained about saving my sorry ass,” Zara teased, and Yelena rolled her eyes.
“Are you going to listen – ”
“All right, all right.” Zara sighed, putting down the spoon. “What is it?”
Yelena paused, eyeing Jake suspiciously. Zara leaned forward then over the counter, clasping her hand. “He won’t tell.”
Jake nodded behind her, making the zip-motion across his lips. “Promise.”
* * *
Yelena had long since left, and Zara wouldn’t be far behind her. Marc fought the wave of melancholy that seemed to want to swallow him whole, reminding himself that she would be back. This was something she had to do – something, he realised, that she would probably never stop doing, not as long as there were enslaved widows out there, kept under the thumb of the people who’d turned her into what she used to be, what she’d hated to be. Marc pulled her a little closer, his arm looped around her as they sat together on the couch. The TV was on, and had been for a while – but he’d barely heard a word.
All he could think was that he didn’t want her to leave.
“I fucking nailed that Kushari.”
Marc chuckled, and he felt her withering glare before he saw it as she turned to face him. Zara squinted at him. “You know I did, you just won’t admit it.”
“I mean, it was definitely an improvement,” he admitted, and he saw her swell with pride. “Though the bar was on the floor.”
“Hey – ”
“No, further.” Marc winked at her. “It was through the floor. Basically in hell.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, and Marc couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from his mouth. Zara didn’t drop her glare. “I’m gonna start calling you mudak too, if you keep that up.” She pointed a finger at him, stern as ever. “Behave yourself, Spector.”
Marc put his other hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “When have I ever misbehaved?”
“You literally called me Edward Scissorhands, once.”
“Nope,” he corrected, only agitating her further. “I said you looked like you lost a fight with Edward Scissorhands. Big difference.”
Zara scoffed. “That’s worse!”
Marc furrowed his brows, confused. “You want to look like Edward Scissorhands?”
“I could pull it off,” Zara asserted. Suddenly she leaned back, ruffling her dark hair with her hands. “I could do the grunge look. You can’t tell me I couldn’t.”
She was trying to pull a pout, a ridiculous emulation of the character – and Marc’s face split into a grin. “I take it back. You’re the spitting image.”
“Exactly,” Zara nodded, sitting back close to him. “I knew you’d see sense, eventually.”
Marc looped his arm around her again, the TV continuing to play the movie they’d chosen, though now he could barely remember what it was. The words sat at the back of his throat, waiting to be pushed forward – but something was stopping him. Sometimes, Marc wished so badly he had the courage of the others. Jake would never hesitate to speak his mind, and though people often mistook him for a shy, quiet type – neither would Steven. They both would’ve said it by now, in his shoes. So why the hell couldn’t he?
“I heard from Layla,” Zara murmured, and he glanced at her. She smiled. “She’s back in Cairo, doing well. I think I’ll go visit her after my job with Yelena.”
Marc nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. He felt her shift closer to him, felt the words he wanted to say trying to push forward, up his throat and out of his mouth. But all he said was: “You miss her?”
“I do, actually.” Zara sounded a little surprised, her eyes still fixed on the TV. “I know I don’t know her as well as you or Yelena, but I – I just want to get to know her better, be there for her.” She smiled, but it seemed somewhat sad. “But I miss Yelena, too. And Melina. And I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, but – I miss Cairo.” She glanced back at him then, their gazes locking. “But I’m going to miss you, too. All of you.”
She was looking at him so openly, and Marc suddenly realised why it was said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He sighed. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”
“I mean, I’ll definitely be back.” She grinned. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“So close,” Marc hissed, and she laughed, elbowing him again.
“Asshole.”
He chuckled. “You love it”
“Unfortunately, I think I do.” Zara murmured, and Marc felt himself freeze. “I really do.”
Say it, that part of him sang, the part that he’d pushed down for most of his life. Say it, say it now.
She won’t say it back, that other part retorted, and he felt himself deflate. She would never say it back.
“Marc,” Steven’s voice came through then, as if summoned by his inner turmoil. Which, of course – he probably was. “You can do it.”
To his complete and utter shock, Jake chimed in, with only a little derision in his voice. “She’ll say it back, hermano. Trust me.”
Trust. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Trust needed to come before love for him, and Marc hadn’t trusted anyone for as long as he could remember. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? He’d trusted Steven to pull him through, to help him realise the things that he kept hidden from himself, from the entire world. He’d trusted him to have his back in the Great Pyramid, even if he hadn’t needed it. He trusted him in the Duat, to hold his hand as they’d waited for the light to engulf them.
And Jake – the one he’d trusted with his life before he’d even known he was there. It was like the curtains had fallen away with him since the Duat, revealing all that was underneath his cold, unnerving exterior. Jake was the least cold person he knew – all fire, all passion, all rage – but all love, too, even if it was his own unique brand of it. Marc had never known unconditional love, not until the two of them had come in and opened his mind to the possibility.
Now that he was looking at Zara, he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. They’d saved each other so many times, in more ways than one – she’d been the one to catch him as he’d stumbled out of the portal after the trial of the gods, the one to fight for him in the Great Pyramid. The one to teach Steven how to fight, to talk Jake down from shooting Yelena, to hold him when his fears seeped into every facet of his life, including his sleep. Zara had been the one to pull him back from the Duat, from the brink of death – and it was without a moment of hesitation that he knew he’d do the same for her. So finally he took that deep breath, the one he’d been holding for much longer than just this conversation – from before the Duat and the nightmares, all the way back to when he’d seen her flash before his eyes as Harrow pulled his life away – and he turned to her. It was now or never.
“I love you.”
Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes wide. “Marc – ”
“I love you.” He repeated, and now that the words were out he wasn’t sure they’d ever stop. “I mean it. I’ve never meant anything so much in my life.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, and Marc shook his head. “You don’t have to say it back – ”
“No, I – ” she started, then shook her head, her face breaking into a grin. “I love you, too.”
Marc felt like she’d slapped him, in the best way possible. No way. “Really?”
“Yes, idiot,” she confirmed, pulling him in for a kiss. “You’re a very loveable person.”
“I – ” he faltered, and she cupped his face in her hands. You’re a very loveable person. He’d never heard that in his life.
“Just shut up and let me kiss you, Marc.”
He let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”
“I love you,” she said, and he would never get sick of hearing it. Never, ever. “But bloody hell, you’re dramatic.”
“God, you’ve been spending too much time around Steven.”
Zara grinned. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
* * *
Jake’s smooth-talking skills truly knew no bounds.
He’d been back at work at the museum full-time for the past month, and Steven still felt like he was dreaming every time he walked through those doors. Of course, there was all that had transpired with Harrow, and Zara, and both his head-mates themselves – but mainly, it was his new job description. Steven couldn’t hold back the grin as he reached his desk, opening the drawer, pushing past the flat cap and stick of gum to find his new badge.
Steven. Tour Guide.
Blimey, he thought to himself. Pinch me, I must be bloody dreaming.
“Lookin’ sharp there, hermanito.” Jake’s voice rang through his head, and he swelled with pride. “Hey, be careful with that cap, though, eh? It took forever to get the gum off the last one you left in there.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t left free bits of gum in my work drawer, you wouldn’t have had that problem.” Steven told him internally. “Wasn’t exactly fun scraping that gunk out before Donna caught on.”
“Pfft.” Jake was way too nonchalant. “What’s she gonna do?”
“Gee, I don’t know – ” Steven pondered, sarcasm coating his words. “Fire me? Again?”
“Can you two please stop arguing, for like, five minutes.” Marc interjected, grumpy as ever. “A man can’t get any rest around here.”
“Ay, go back to sleep.” Jake told him. “You’re being a buzzkill.”
Marc scoffed, and Steven sighed. “You are kind of bringing the mood down with all the complaining.”
“What – how did I end up getting ganged up on, here?” Marc was incredulous. “Whatever, I’m out. Wake me up at six, it’s my turn to meet Khonshu tonight.”
Jake cracked up, and Steven let out a little chuckle. “He really makes it too easy.”
“Like poking a bear,” Jake agreed. “With a hot poker.”
The day rolled on, groups coming in and out, and it was perfect. Well, almost. Conversing between the three of them had gotten easier and easier over the past month since Zara had left – but Steven knew she was the one unspoken thing between them. Any time Steven brought her up, Marc went quiet, and he didn’t need to guess to know that he was worried something was going to happen to her, and that she wouldn’t make it back. Steven knew, because it had been on his mind, too – but this was Zara, he reminded himself, and Marc whenever he could. She was the strongest person they knew. And she had Sekhmet, who had her back in a way that neither Steven nor his head-mates were completely sure Khonshu ever would have theirs.
Jake and Marc were most active at night – taking turns (or arguing, depending on the day) to take the suit and take to the streets. Steven had watched Jake open more and more as they’d progressed in their new deal with the god of the moon, absolutely buzzing with adrenaline, with the thrill of the chase and the battle. Marc was beginning to come to the front elsewhere, finding hobbies of his own, which was something Steven wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him do. Running, boxing, really any form of exercise he could get his hands on – Marc moved differently now, as if he was powered by some electric line that had evaded him before. Both he and Steven were moving more like Jake now: lighter, with less of the weight of the world dragging down their steps. It felt good. They felt…alive.
It was getting close to his last hour of his shift, and Steven stretched his arms behind his back, letting out a sigh. He did miss her, even if he didn’t often say it. He knew Marc did, and Jake – well, Jake was still something of an enigma, and Steven suspected he would always be. The museum was getting quieter as the sun set, the streets outside the great doors darkening gradually. Almost time to clock off.
“You got time for one more tour?”
The accented voice came from behind him and Steven whirled, to see her standing there. Without thinking he rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. Zara let out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around him. When they pulled apart, Steven felt breathless. “You’re back!”
“I am,” Zara confirmed, smiling warmly at him. Her skin was even more tanned than usual, her eyes alight, and practically glowing. Even her hair had changed – the strands a little longer, a little lighter. “I missed you guys.”
“I – we missed you too, Zara.” Steven was grinning ear-to-ear, and he knew he couldn’t have stopped even if he’d wanted to. “Oh my days, I’m just – I’m so glad to see you. We were so worried.”
“I know, I’m sorry I couldn’t call or message – it was just too risky,” she explained, and Steven felt the tension that he’d held since she’d left simply melt away. “But I thought about you every day.”
Steven felt himself go bright red. “Really? You did?”
“Of course I did,” Zara told him, and he felt his stomach flip. “That’s what happens when you love someone.”
Now he really blushed. Zara frowned then, her eyes fixing on his shirt. “Does that nametag say what I think it does?”
Steven had to snap himself out of his reverie. “Oh – yes,” he confirmed, and her face lit up. He held out his hand. “Steven Grant, tour guide. Pleased to meet you.”
Zara took his hand, beaming at him. “I’m so proud of you, Steven.” She smirked. “And what an honour to know such a talented tour guide as yourself.”
Steven chuckled, running his thumb over her hand. God, he’d missed her – he’d missed her so much, felt her absence like a missing limb, even if he had tried to pretend it was still there while she was gone. Zara would come and go, he knew that – she had so much work to do, and he would never stop admiring her for it. His, Jake and Marc’s lives were already filled with gods and monsters, with battles and tombs and everything in between – and it had been so wonderful to have her in there, too. Steven knew he’d spend his whole life telling her that, if she let him.
“You have a place in the world now, Zara. Because you made one.” Steven murmured, completely changing the subject. But he didn’t care. “And I’m so proud of you, too.”
Zara blushed now, pulling her hand away as people walked past them – but her face had lit up like a lantern as she held his gaze. Finally Steven glanced over his shoulder, pointing behind him. “So, shall we get this tour underway? We have a great new section on Egyptian goddesses.” He winked at her. “You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
Zara cocked an eyebrow at him, a knowing glance passing between the two of them. Then she gestured for him to go ahead, watching him with those eyes he loved so dearly.
“Lead the way, tour guide.”