Work Text:
Steven hadn't been prepared for Marc. His sudden arrival in his life had made quite a mess of things, and he'd certainly made that clear to him.
But so much had happened since those first few days, and if he'd been given the chance to go back and speak with his past self, Steven would have confidently said "Soon you'll see him as a brother."
Even so, he wasn't sure Marc felt the same way, and that's where the problem lay.
Ammit and Harrow were sealed away. Layla was off on a sort of self discovery mission to finally make peace with her father's death (and maybe kick dirt on Khonshu's shrine, knowing her).
And Marc...
He'd sort of chained himself to the back burner. He had his own goldfish to accompany Gus now, and he checked in with Steven every morning, but other than that, radio silence. It was like he wasn't even there. Steven's life was entirely back to normal.
And Holy Khonshu, did he hate it.
Suddenly it was too quiet in his apartment. That lulling absence of sound he used to indulge in was now painfully loud in its own right. Despite sharing it with another, he felt alone in his head.
There wasn't really a right way to go about bringing it up with Marc. At first he'd tried including him in his daily routine, just casually chatting without addressing the root of the issue. But that brought its own host of problems. Every part of his day became consumed with trying to coax Marc out of silence, all the while noting the profound confusion he expressed at the idea that Steven wanted him around to chat.
The situation was at a stalemate, and Steven decided it was finally time to man up and say something.
But if he was going to confront Marc, he was going to do it head on.
After getting home from work, he stopped to say hi to Gus and Finny before heading to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he approached the mirror, anxiously adjusting his collar.
"Marc. Marc, are you there? We need to talk."
He watched as his reflection shifted, and suddenly he no longer saw himself, but Marc, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. He'd likely just woken up. Despite no longer being in service of Khonshu, he still couldn't shake his night owl habits. Steven would always wake him up after work with a cup of chamomile.
"You always make tea when you get home from work." Marc grumbled in something like a greeting. "Something wrong?"
Steven nodded apologetically.
"We'll get around to that. But we need to discuss..." He gestured vaguely between them. "Our situation. Mainly you."
Marc came fully awake in a split second, staring at Steven with an odd look in his eyes.
"Yeah, right, that." He murmured.
Steven nodded.
"It's just that-"
"I'm sorry." Marc interrupted. "I don't know how to just disappear, I promised you I would, and I'm trying but-"
"What? I don't-"
"I'll get out of your life, just give me some time to figure it out."
"No, Marc, I-"
"I figure if I can kill off my consciousness-"
"Stop! Stop that right now, Marc! I don't want you to disappear, I don't want you t-to off yourself for me!"
Marc blinks. His eyes are dim, narrowed with confusion and something more painful.
On an impulse, Steven grabs a rag and a bottle of windex from the shelf and starts cleaning the glass, gently wiping around their shared image in the mirror as he starts to babble.
"I know what this is about, I know what I said back then, but it's not true anymore, so I'm taking it back. I don't want you to disappear. You're my...you mean..."
He swallows hard, pushing down that ache in his chest. He sets down the rag and bottle, fiddling with them for a moment.
"You were here first." He settles on. "I won't push you out."
He offers an awkward little smile to Marc, who in turn, gives a baffled laugh. He's running his hands through his hair, refusing to meet Steven's eye, and Steven knows he's in for it now.
Marc leans toward him, hands clutching the sides of the sink in a white knuckled grip.
"I am ruining your life, Steven." He announces, and the blase confidence with which he says it has Steven seeing red, but Marc isn't done. "Ever since this whole thing started, I've been messing everything up with you. I set up that date for you and then made you miss it, I got you fired, I- I killed your goldfish!"
His voice breaks and he lets out a manic laugh, shaking his head. Steven can only glare at him, eyes burning with annoyance at this negative self talk. Marc must misinterpret this look, because he frowns, and suddenly he's the one babbling, an almost desperate look in his eyes.
"I never meant for any of this to happen, for you to get dragged into all this, and I know I can never apologize enough, because...you're the better one of us, and I can't even give you the life you deserve, one far away from all my bullshit."
His gaze falls, staunchly refusing to meet Steven's eyes. The silence between them tells Marc enough, and he goes to leave.
"Don't." Steven snaps.
Marc freezes, turning back to him in bafflement.
"What?"
"You wanna know what's bullshit?" Steven growls. "Every damn thing you just said, yeah? Callin' yourself worthless, acting like I'm some deity and you're just nothing? Stupid. That's utterly stupid. Cuz' you didn't have a choice, alright? Khonshu had you by the bloody neck. I didn't see it then, but I see it now, clear as day and night, every single thing you did was to protect me and Layla, and that's a hell of a lot more than I've ever done."
"Don't put yourself down." Marc chastises.
Steven huffs, crossing his arms.
"Terrible, innit? Hearing someone you love talk absolute rubbish about themselves."
"Love?" Marc chuckles, expecting Steven to chalk it up to a slip of the tongue.
His laughter dies away at the look on Steven's face, still deathly serious.
"You are my brother Marc. And all this cruel nonsense you're spouting, it stops here. I protected you from it back when we were young, and I'm not gonna stand for it now."
Marc seems to soften, blinking rapidly.
"Steven, you don't have to-"
"Don't wanna hear it." Steven puffs. "You're here to stay and that's how I like it. We're done with all this hiding, alright? We're gonna have a cup of tea, switch on the telly, and you're not gonna disappear anymore, we capital?"
Marc purses his lips, nodding slowly.
"Aye aye, captain, I'm here to stay."
He offers a light smile, his first of the night, and Steven sighs in relief. That's all he wanted to hear.
As they're sitting on the couch, music buzzing from their crappy tv, Marc suddenly fronts. It startles him a bit and he jumps to his feet, but he quickly realizes that Steven's simply fallen asleep.
He smiles softly, rolling his eyes.
"Typical Steven." He murmurs.
Turning off the TV, he take their empty mug to the kitchen and rinses it out, setting it on the counter to dry.
Looking around, he fully takes in his surroundings for the first time in a long time.
Crowded though it is, it's also very homey. The dust clouds lazily stirring about put him at ease. The place isn't dirty by any means, but it feels lived in, vibrant and thrumming with the atmosphere of an idyllic life. That's kind of a punch in the gut to Marc.
He goes and sits at Steven's desk, running his hands over the cracked spines of numerous stacks of books, all free of dust because of how well used and loved they are. He flips through pages upon pages of carefully hand written notes, some older than others. From the dates at the top he can tell a few were written as early as last week. Steven still uses the same rusty old pen, the ink muddy in some spots and yellowish in others, giving his work an ancient, hallowed feel.
Or maybe it only seems that way to Marc.
Everything of Steven's feels so special, a time capsule of the kind of peace and prosperity Marc had often dreamed of, but could never imagine having. It felt strange to be on the cusp of it, no, to be in it, to be openly welcomed and wanted in this space. He still felt like he was trespassing, like he didn't quite deserve to be here. But hadn't Steven made it clear that his presence was not only appreciated, but desired? That he wanted to welcome him into this?
It was hard to believe that. But it also felt indescribably good. In fact, he could only remember feeling like this one other time.
In the Afterlife.
If Khonshu had been his Duat, Steven was his Field Of Reeds. But this was so, so much better than that. The one thing eternal peace had been missing was his friend, his brother who had been there for him most of his life. He admired Steven in a way he could hardly bear, his heart swelled with pride just seeing the life he'd built for himself, all without Marc's help.
Seeing Steven create his own Field Of Reeds had been a dream come true, but never in a thousand moons had he expected Steven to turn back and pave the way for him to follow.
He took one last look around the flat, still buzzing with warmth, and he breathed it all in.
He could stay. He could stay.
He was welcome in the Field of Reeds.