Steven had known for some time. Or did he? He didn't know, maybe he was just always in denial.
Real...
The word swam around his (their?) mind. Who was the real one? Steven, or Marc? Or were neither of them real? real? real?
He now knew Marc was the original; the real one. Steven was just someone he made up. Heh...just something. A puppet.
Oh god, oh god no. He- he needed to know the truth- the truth? What truth? That he was just...made up? That he never existed? He was just a fictional thing?
Heh... he was. He was, wasn't he?
He tried to deny it. Oh, he did. But then that- that arsehole Arthur had to blow this whole thing up!
Real, real...
One by one, the walls, the lies, the facade crumbled.
"Mom's dead."
And they found themselves back onto the ship.
"I'm so sorry, I was rooting for you, I really was."
Taweret's voice was white noise, her good intentions meaning less than nothing.
Then the first clambered onto the ship, its intentions clear as day. Ah, yes, now the dead were coming to collect them. Deliver them to the underworld.
Real...
"Hide, Steven!" Marc backed up too, eyeing the creatures reaching closer and closer to them
Real...
"Real what?" Steven whispered to himself.
He stared at Marc, attacking and dodging them as their pale hands reached forwards, dragging...no, leave him alone! He's the real one, leave him alone!
A grunt escaped Marc, struggling to find a way out. Fear blossomed stronger than ever, yes, even stronger than when Steven saw the butt of the shotgun- the bullet plunging into their chest-
Marc needed help.
Steven's hands seemed to move without him realising, stirring the ship, beating seven shades of actual dust out of those....those..creatures?
Real...
Shut it, shut it...Steven smiled weakly at the other. Marc stared in surprise.
A memory surfaced from what seemed like a lifetime ago. 'It's the same body, innit? Muscle memory and...and all that.'
Real, real...
A cold hand wrapped around Marc's neck. He jerked up, then the hoard was upon him.
Real, real...
No. MARC!
Steven's mind was a mess, a chaotic mess, in shambles.
Without thinking, without blinking, Steven lunged forward, arms ready to pull Marc back, help him, save him from the underworld.
Real.
It shot through the chaos like a fresh bullet. Only this—this— held the promise of life, not death.
Well, not Marc's at least.
Real.
A small smile played on Steven's lips. The weight was shifting to him, he could feel their fingers clawing in, Marc's eyes hardening as realisatio dawned on him.
Goodbye, Marc.
And Steven was thrown off the ship, the creature not far behind.
He landed in the sand, dazed.
"STEVEN!"
He tensed up, realising what every human does in their last moment.
I'm about to die.
"STEVEN!" His vision was blurring, every sense just screaming at him to get to Marc.
He ran, following the ship as Marc had his hands outstretched in a fruitless attempt to rescue the other.
I don't want to die.
Marc's name had been on the tip of Steven's tongue for so long, a silent scream as the dead clambered over Marc just a moment ago.
"Marc!" And so he ran, running for a rescue he knew would never happen. Already, he could feel his limbs stiffening.
He stopped in his tracks, knowing it was inevitable. His eyes searched upwards, meeting Marc's as he frantically tried to save the other.
Cold. The stone was so cold.
Steven was ready to give in.
"Your scales balanced!"
And Steven let go.
The last of Marc's desperate screams entering earshot right before the sweet, blissful oblivion of death.
Marc found himself in the fields. Golden crops dancing in the breeze. With Marc.
Just Marc.
He doubled over, desperate sobs slashing their way out. Steven...Steven...
A scream clawed its way out.
Another person's blood spilt on his blood soaked hands.
His fault, his fault...
Real?
Who's real, you ask?
Both are real. Steven and Marc are both real.
Real.
But now as Marc lay in the Field of Reeds alone, he willed everything to be anything but real.
Please, please let it be not real.
But it was.
It was true, it was real.
Both of them.
Real.
Real.
A second scream tore its way out, raw and anguished.
Do you want to know what was real?
That Marc was alone now.