Marc Spector was panicking.
Two hours had passed since he’d discovered that Steven left . The news came to him in the form of Khonshu, who gleefully told Marc that the “worm left” and that he’s no longer going to be a problem.
Even before Khonshu told him, he’d already known. He couldn’t feel his presence anymore, even internally. When Steven had control, he still felt Marc, even if he was just in the back of his brain. Its unavoidable, they share the same body after all.
The news should have made Marc sigh with relief, or celebrate at the very least. Not go through the five stages of grief in front of the full sized mirror provided by the hotel they’d been staying at in Egypt.
“What the hell”, Khonshu spoke bitterly, “This was supposed to be good news!”
“ Good news!? ”, Marc said, if he had any trace of respect for the god left, it didn’t show, “ It’s good news to have the very person I swore to protect besides Layla just- disappear!? ”, he sighs and slumps to the bed, head in his hands. “And apparently you had NOTHING to do with it?”
“Trust me Marc”, the voice sounded somber, “I had nothing to do with it ”, then he paused, “ Unless you count the bullying, then yeah”. Marc groaned and took a swig of the whiskey he’d been nursing yesterday.
“I mean, if he couldn’t take that, he wouldn’t be able to survive the missions you’re going through”, Khonshu comments, physical form already beginning to disappear from this plane of existence, “ The way I see it, he was doing himself a favor by leaving… That’s if… he did leave on his own volition.” Khonshu stops mid-dissolve to rub salt in the wound, “Oh and maybe don’t beat the fuck out of yourself when you get angry? I don’t know, just a suggestion.”
“ ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. Enough! ”, Marc places the whiskey bottle down, certain that Khonshu is gone. He looks at his reflection and bites his lip nervously.
"Steven?"
The same dead inside expression he'd seen thousands of times stared back at him, and traces of the warmth Steven held were imperceptible. He finds himself missing it, even though he could finally do his job with ease now that he was in control.
The cool evening air seeped in through the apricot curtains of the inn, and yet, it couldn't combat the chill he felt when, by the second hour he'd been standing in front of the full sized mirror, Steven had yet to respond to him. Marc felt anxious and refused to think about the possibility that maybe, just maybe.
That was Steven's breaking point and he had left to protect himself. From Marc.
He hadn't meant to lash out at him, Marc was just so overwhelmed by everything and Steven's questioning was making it worse.
But, wasn't he supposed to be the stable one out of the two? He'd essentially robbed Steven of a normal life. He couldn't even imagine what Steven must be going through, waking up from a nightmare and realizing that it, in fact, was not a nightmare but a very real, very bizarre reality that he doesn't want to be in.
He stared at his reflection again, it moved the same way he did, it blinked the same way he did, causing Marc to groan in frustration.
"You're being very selfish", he spat, "I own this body too, I have a right to use it"
His own angry expression reflected itself in the mirror and Marc's anger dissipated. He was beginning to feel helpless. Even more helpless than he had.
"If this was about me punching you, then I'm sorry alright?", Marc paced around, spotting the cheap whiskey bottle he'd been nursing earlier and suddenly itching for it, "It- I was just- ". He sat down onto the hard mattress, and taking a swig out of the bottle and wincing at the bitter taste flowing down his throat.
"There's no excuse for it, I'm an asshole alright? is that what you wanted to hear? Steven Grant is better and Marc Spector doesn't deserve him "
Silence continued to greet him.
"Just- please come back", he whispered, eyes puffing up with unshed tears and cradling a whiskey bottle gone cold, "You're the only one I have left."
Marc contemplated giving up and accepting the fact that Steven left and almost laughed at the cruel irony of it all. He didn't give Steven a choice, why should Marc be granted one?
He placed the bottle of whiskey on the floor and stood up, almost going to the washroom before a voice, small, and barely audible, called out, "Do you really mean that?"
Marc didn't know it, but that was the fastest turn he'd ever done in all his years of living.
"Steven!", he exclaims, rushing over and hugging the mirror, startling the later. Marc knew he looked pretty stupid but he was too happy to give a fuck. Steven hadn't become dormant, he was still here, he could still see him.
He probably needs to apologize.
"Yes, yes I did mean it, I meant all of it", Marc's voice cracked and by that point, he had stopped hugging the furniture. Steven was in the same position as he was, although the youthful expression he lacked was sported in his reflection.
"You really didn't want me to leave?"
"No, I mean yes! Of course I don't!", this was the first time Steven saw Marc truly panicked. Even in the coldness of the void he is in, it provided some semblance of warmth within him. Knowing that someone truly cared enough to beg him to stay.
"A-Alright", Steven said with little hesitation, "I'll stay- under one condition"
"Anything"
"Tell me everything. Explain it to me, right here, right now."
So Marc Spector did, and Steven Grant listened without question. (Except when he asked Marc if he wanted a bathroom break since he'd been downing down whiskey and sitting in front of the mirror for 5 hours)
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fin.