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The constant shaking and inconsistent jarring vibration of the coach Steven was in wasn't the most annoying thing he has been dealing with for the past 16 hours.
The lack of a full night sleep and the painful emptiness in his abdomen didn't even come close to the things that made this particular moment of his existence, downright miserable.
The occasional whistles from the engine startled him whenever the locomotive passed a small village or an informal gathering of houses locals built near the rail line, it was loud enough to keeping him alarmed and awake for the following hours he needed to stay vigilant for.
He was a stowaway on an old coal and goods transport locomotive headed to the city,
At least that was what he overheard when he first sneaked on.
He's picked up a few Arabic phrases from Layla to construct a sensible sentence.
It was not enough to have full conversation with anyone who spoke the tongue, but he tried reading a few signs that may have gave him an idea of where he was.
Steven was lost, thirsty, hungry, tired and mostly afraid.
Again, those were not to things on top of his list of worries.
It was the insufferable heat that has been increasing since the sun came up.
It was forcing him to do the thing he's been avoiding since he took the mission from Khonshu, falling asleep.
If he did, they both would come in.
His mind barrier was already weak enough and him just drifting off to sleep was a clear indication that he wanted help from Marc and Jake, but he didn't, so he stayed up.
He was in the northern parts of the Western Sahara going to a nearby airport in Morocco, he had returned a stolen artifact that belonged to a spiritual sanctum in the driest parts of the Sahara, a friend of Khonshu, as the pigeon said.
There will be no killing, Khonshu had promised,
Jake had already done that for him when he retrieved it from a Museum in Spain.
He just had to return it to the sanctum and that was all from his part.
Marc would've been the one to take the mission, that mean he'd be gone for three to four days without contacting them till his objective was met.
Steven had interjected and personally accepted the mission from Khonshu, to the God's surprise, he was successful in his little delivery.
Things went incredibly south when Steven was surrounded by rebels with firearms.
After trying his best to explain that he was no threat, his pleads fell onto deaf ears.
The rebels started firing at him.
He used his newly acquired skill sets and the training he got from Jake to fight his way out. He tried to use some evasive defense moves and parkoured his way out the sanctum, sustaining several bullet wounds that were now just a painful memory.
All events happening at a span of 41 hours, a new record for him.
Steven felt his eyes slowly drift downwards, the sweat dropping off his forehead rolled onto his left eye, forcing to close. His head slowly titled down and pressed onto the wooden crate that might give him splinters.
He was extremely tired, the body needed sleep but he had to deprive it some till he knew he was safe and headed home.
There it was again.
That damn whistle.
Only this time, it sounded muffled and distant.
Steven felt his eyes slowly close and sink him back into the darkness.
It felt safe and comfortable, inviting and familiar.
He just needed to rest his eyes, they were sore and probably itching to be closed for at least twenty minutes.
At least twenty minutes.
"Steven?!"
A voice startled him, quiet and faint.
Worry was a prominent emotion lingering in it.
It was Marc.
Steven pushed himself up to sit properly, in a position that was impossible to fall asleep on.
He needed to get to London first.
Or maybe have a quick bite along the way, but sleep would have to wait.
Still fighting Marc Spector and Jake Lockley, worm?
Khonshu's compressed full toned voice reverbed around the Brit before his figure appeared on top of a crate in the corner.
He was in a suit, similar to the one Steven had on whenever he took on his Mr. Knight persona but Khonshu's was less detailed.
Steven simply rolled his eyes at the god and got up from the floor to sit on the crate behind him.
"Until I'm back in London, none of them are getting the body."
He said, his tone coming out harsher than he had intended.
Khonshu looks out the door into the empty orange dunes out far.
I am surprised and impressed that you are able to keep both Marc and Jake repressed deep in your mind for this long.
The god admitted and turned back to look at Steven briefly.
Several months ago, I wouldn't even possibly consider entertaining the idea of you being my fist of vengeance. Last night you have proven to be quite useful, Steven Grant.
Steven doesn't look at the other entity but responds to him nonetheless.
"I'm not doing any of this for you, you know?
I'm just trying my best to help the two people I love most to have a few days of peace without you breathing down their necks, yeah?"
He says, his tone clearly sharp.
Khonshu deeply hums but says nothing.
"Oh, piss off. You clearly have nothing else to say now, don't you?"
Steven shrugs off the god's anger fueled gusts of air he subconsciously created.
Knowing full well that's the best he could do to try to intimidate Steven.
It's only a matter of time before Jake or Marc have the body and you are out of it. You are beat, worm. Surrender the body to the others before you kill yourself trying to get to London.
Steven forced a smile and flicked off the god.
Khonshu simply scoffed and disappeared.
*******
The marketplace was similar to the one in Cairo, full of life and ever so loud.
Steven had purchased a few apples and oranges then devoured them in an empty alleyway, earning a few looks from men, women and children who happen to occasionally pass him by.
He politely gave them smiles and managed to give out a few sorrys here and there.
The oranges were sweet and refreshing, not enough to quench his thirst but the water he had purchased did the trick.
He wasn't exactly revitalized, but he could now go on for a few more hours before the sun went down.
The shop owner had criticized him earlier for not speaking Arabic, he had tried to explain that he was not from the county and that he was just a tourist traveling the outskirts of the city.
The owner then mumbled something about foreigners and also something about Duolingo, it was a weird encounter that made him feel awkward and slightly guilty for some reason.
Steven took a bite at his last apple and looked around for a few minutes.
Again, this place wasn't all different from the market in Cairo when Layla had tracked them before they took down Harrow and Ammit.
She hasn't been around much after that, but he knows she's safe, Tawaret would let them know if she wasn't. They talked, but it was always brief. Not enough time to catch up, as she is always busy with something.
Steven noticed his reflection on one of the windows of the small shop he bought from.
His hair was a mess and parts of it stuck onto his sweaty forehead.
He had on a green shirt and white cotton scarf that was tainted with stains of dry blood and dirt.
He also had on cargo pants and heavy duty boots he didn't remember purchasing.
He tried getting his hair out his face, slicking it back a few times before noticing something.
He looked exactly like Marc now.
Sure, he also occupies the same body as him, but this made him more like him in appearance. All he needed now was an uninterested scowl to finish the look.
"Looking good, cariño."
Steven watched his reflection slowly stand up and address him.
He was a little freaked out when his own reflection stopped mirroring his actions and started making its own.
"Jake."
Steven confirms, half smiling at the man in the mirror.
His barrier was weak, if not down, if Jake was here and able to communicate this clearly with him.
"I thought we were past this tonterías, mi amor. Keeping us out? " Jake's voice was low in his head but Steven could tell he was angry.
"You said you'd never do that."
Steven now sensed sadness, yet he stayed quiet.
Jake took a few more looks at Steven, halfway through his apple and seated on the floor, looking like shit.
"You're tired, I know it when I see it."
Jake told him.
He still sounded hurt but he managed to give off a false confidant tone to his voice. Jake sighed and tried to find Steven's gaze.
"Give me the body, amor. You can rest and I can get us home."
" What? You serious?!"
Steven stood up and walked closer to the window.
" You and Marc come home most of the time, dreadfully tired and sore whenever you do favors for that pigeon!"
He looks around, suddenly aware of his tone.
Jake looks at him softly.
"I just wanted to give you two a rest for once, you both deserve it - "
" Estamos agradecidos but -"
" Then let me do this for you!
I promise, once we I get us back home, where I know its safe, I'll surrender the body to the both of you. I just want to be the one who protects you for once."
Steven whispers the last part but Jake had heard everything he said.
"I'm keeping both of you out for now because..."
He paused, taking a deep breath. Jake looks at him expectantly before his eyes flickered at a figure behind him.
Steven noticed a shadow approach him and instinctively dropped, swiveled with his leg extended and tripped the man behind him.
His machete clanked on the ground and Steven kicked it away.
The man groaned and started cursing at Steven in Arabic.
"Oh, Sorry!.. You alright?"
He apologized.
He looked over the man's arm and noticed a familiar tattoo on it.
"Oh.. you one of Harrow's friends."
Steven said.
"I see my head is still valuable in the black market, yeah?"
The man started getting up and Steven watched him.
" Listen, mate, I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. I suggest you walk away, yeah? "
The man ignored the Brit and lunged for his machete, taking his stance and ready to attack.
"No?
Steven retorted.
" So be it then."
It took only a few heavy attacks to render the man unconscious.
The ones he learned from Jake, the ones Marc wasn't able to execute himself. He wouldn't do such drastic attacks normally, but he was too tired and annoyed to let the confrontation drag on longer than it needed to be.
Steven ran out the alley after the encounter and tried to find a place where he could get a taxi.
His heart still beated a bit too fast his sweating had only worsened.
He got to a busy street after passing by a crowd of people before finally finding a taxi.
The driver greeted him, to which he nodded and asked for the airport.
The driver said a few things after that to which he nodded to without understanding.
Steven stared at the road ahead and behind the vehicle he was in in constant panic.
He wasn't being followed, but something in him kept screaming that he wasn't safe here.
They had left the market a little over 15 minutes ago and the haunting feeling only got worse the longer he stayed in the car.
They headed towards the city of Errachidia, the number signs they had passed seemed to be indicating so.
The road was practically empty apart from a few goods trucks going the opposite direction.
The driver was mostly silent and barely made attempts to slow down.
He may have glanced at Steven a few times but he didn't pick that up at all.
They merged into the main highway and slowly the city's skyline came into view.
"Steven?"
The voice again.
Steven looked around to find a reflective surface Marc was currently in.
"Steven, up here!"
He looked at the rearview mirror.
His reflection stared back at him with fear in his eyes.
"Marc?.."
Steven mouthed, realizing his mind barrier was down for sure.
Marc's eyes darted back and forth between Steven and the driver.
"Steven get out the car now!"
Steven noticed the man eye him with nervousness radiating from the most minute movement he made.
The Brit looked over the driver's seat hesitantly.
The driver saw his movements and swiftly pulled out a pistol from his holster, aiming at Steven whilst also trying to focus on the road.
"Praise Ammit!"
Without a moment to think,
Steven grabbed the driver's arm and pushed it forward, changing the man's aim away from his face before the driver could fire.
Steven let out agony infused whimpers and grunts as his ears started ringing mercilessly.
The glass had shattered when the bullet speared out the window and car started swiveling on the road.
The driver resorted to using his own fists when Steven managed to disarm him. Forgetting he was the one driving on an open road at high speeds.
The Brit returned a few jabs and threw the pistol in the back seat.
"Steven the road!"
A voice warned him.
Unable to see properly with glass shards in his eyes Steven summoned his suit.
He yanked the driver out his seat and proceed kick-thrust them both out of the moving vehicle.
Somehow he was able to rip the door clean off the vehicle and used it to prevent his own back from scraping on the asphalt. A few cars almost hit both of them in the middle of the highway but they remained unharmed after the door stopped sliding with them on it.
Steven got up and watched the car drive itself onto incoming traffic, slowing down the further it went on without a driver in it.
"Bloody hell, mate!? You daft!?"
Steven turned back to confront the driver.
He was now a football field distance away, leaving the Brit stranded in the middle of the road with angry road users blaring their horns at him.
Steven breathed heavily, the painful buzzing of his ears slowly dissipating.
"Oh my!.. bloody hell!"
The man in a white three piece suit was going to be on the news today,
Steven thought.
****
Steven walked passed a café in the heart of the city, he was still in the suit he'd previously summoned but he stayed unmasked.
It didn't get him a lot of looks from the public as he thought it would, so he kept it on.
A few sirens went off at a distance, they sounded to be heading towards the crash he had made on the highway.
He asked for directions to the airport from students, who were more than happy to share this information with him.
They also informed him that it would be quicker to travel by vehicle before they tried to get a taxi for him.
He politely told them not to worry and that he preferred walking since he was already close by.
In reality, he didn't feel like getting aimed at with a gun again for today.
He got a few questions from people about his suit as he made his way to his destination.
Luckily, they were mostly in English.
Was he coming from a wedding?
What party is he attending?
And a few teenagers asked about his shoes.
He never noticed, but he had sneakers on.
They were also white and they looked like mummy wrapping design on top but had the aesthetic of basic sneakers.
He also never noticed how comfortable they are.
It was getting dark and soon enough, a lot of Ammit worshippers would have known that he was in town by now. A lot of them already knew what he looked like and being out in the streets any longer might get him more unwanted attention.
This meant getting onto the next flight to London was now time sensitive.
The Airport was easy to maneuver in, not unnecessarily too big to confuse the general public and after asking the clerk for a few minutes he had successfully purchased a ticket to London that was due to take off in 2 hours. Lady Luck was on his side.
He made his way into the Airport's bathroom to relieve himself. After all he has been through since he touched down in Morocco, a bathroom break might be the last thing that might pose a danger to him.
Steven was severely tired but it would be all over soon enough.
He just needs to get to London, try not to get followed and make his way home.
He can't wait to feel Marc and Jake next to him.
Steven bent over the sink to wash his dirty face and took a few more minutes to get rid of the tiny shards of glass that were scattered across his face.
"Are you okay, cariño?"
Steven looked at his reflection fondly and smiled.
Jake had a deeply worried and confused expression plastered onto his face.
"It's all good."
Steven answered.
Jake took a deep breath.
"Marc said he lost you when you were attacked. He is worried and honestly...yo también."
He said.
" It was one of Ammit's worshippers, he got away but he won't be bothering me again."
Steven explained softly.
His reflection starting to get flustered.
Steven's suit disappeared, it was partly on command, but it was mostly the feeling of safety that made his suit think he might not need it for now.
"I can't wait to be with you both again. I can't wait to be in that confusing world we've made up that just suited for us. I can't wait to..."
Steven paused, his voice low and deep, at the verge of falling asleep.
"...To touch every inch of your warm bodies and feel them next to mine."
Jake beamed at the sentence that just came out Steven's lips and folded his arms, stepping closer towards the Brit.
"You have no idea how sexy you sound right now, corazón."
Jake responds and stared into eyes similar to his.
He knows the feeling all too well.
And he can't wait to show Steven the love he has always given him whenever he got back from missions. The grueling pain of his joints and muscles being neutralized by warm touch both of his lovers.
Once in the headspace with him and Marc, he'd forget about his eyes burning, begging to be closed shut.
He'd forget about his muscles aching and constantly reminding him that the body has reached its limit.
Him and Marc are going to make him forget all about the fatigue he is feeling now.
Steven's train of thought was disrupted when a man entered the bathroom, in a business suit and a face written in confusion. He was clearly foreign himself, very Caucasian.
He eyed Steven a few times and entered one of the stalls silently.
Steven finished cleaning up his face, noticing Jake was gone and slowly walked out the men's bathroom.
Click.
Steven felt a cold metal press against his back.
"Praise Ammit."