Chapter Text
When you go to a museum, you would expect to find something new and interesting. At least that’s what Milo thought. She had been through tour after tour, looking for some new tidbit of anything to add to her thesis, however, it wasn’t until her fifth visit that something had piqued her interest.
She hadn’t expected it to be the man from the gift shop telling an incredibly curious, yet mildly horrified middle schooler about the absolute wonders of the rituals behind Egyptian organ jars though.
“Well that’s a new one.” She noted aloud, drawing the man’s attention to her, his face flushing over with a light blush as the kid wandered off to find something new and gross to fawn over. “You seem to have a knack for this kind of thing…” she looked him over, reading his name tag, “Steven.”
He glanced down at his name tag, and nodded, reminding himself that she wasn’t actually a mind reader or something. “Right. Yeah, I just… have a hobby. Nothing more interesting than what you would hear on a tour, yeah?”
“Funny that,” she crossed her arms, offering him a sly smile, “I’ve taken all the tours they offer here and no one has had quite the spark you do for Egyptian history.”
“Right, I thought you looked familiar.” He smiled back, fidgeting with his hands. “You’re working on a paper or something right?” She nodded. “You’ve taken all the tours, but you’re still looking around?”
“None of them really had anything new to tell me that I didn’t already know. More of a middle school field trip type of informational word vomit.” She shrugged. “And they were all so… stuffy.” She pulled a face, shaking her head.
“Stuffy?” He laughed lightly. “That’s a new one. So what are you looking for? Or what is your paper about, I should ask. Would probably be best to start there, yeah? Maybe I could help you out?”
“I wouldn’t be pulling you away from work, right? I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your manager.” She clutched the strap of her messenger bag, concern crossing her face.
“Nah.” He grinned. “I’m always in trouble for something anyways. Might as well make it from something worthwhile.” He beamed. “I’m actually early today anyways, as rare as that is, so I have the time.”
She mimicked the grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Brilliant. Thank you, you have no idea how much this means.” She pulled a notebook out of her bag, flipping open to her notes, and turning it to him. “It’s a bit weird, but I think it’s interesting. I’m both a psychology major and a mythology major. My thesis is focused on divination in different cultures, and how it’s been carried over into the now,” she studied his reaction as he glanced over her basic notes, “and how divination can affect the mental health of an individual based off of the limited research that has been done on the topic.”
“That’s… really bloody interesting.” Steven looked up, eyes wide. “What got you interested in all this?” He handed her back her notebook with a smile.
She blushed, “I- may dabble in divination and the like a bit myself.” She shook her head. “It’s sounds crazy-“
“No!” His outburst caught her by surprise, and he reigned himself in quickly. “Sorry, I meant, no. It’s brilliant. I’ve never met someone that actually practices the concepts from the cultures they study, and to pair it with how it affects the human brain? Absolutely amazing.” She preened under his praise, grinning even wider. He snapped his fingers, bouncing on his toes and she covered her mouth to stifle her giggle at his enthusiasm. “I think I have just the thing to show you, follow me!”
After twenty minutes of gushing over history later, they made their way back up to the gift shop so that Steven could get properly clocked in. As soon as he made his way back to the front, Milo was waiting for him, leaning on the counter. “Hello gift shop man, I’d like to schedule another tour?”
“Gift shop man? Ouch, I thought we’d be on a first name basis by now.” He feigned hurt before stepping into his role, earning a laugh from the mint green haired woman. “I’m afraid that this isn’t the proper place to do that, maam, the tour guide desk is over that way.” He nodded to where the next group was starting to gather.
“Ah but the tour guide I’m looking to book with isn’t available, unfortunately.”
“And who might that be?”
“I think his name was… oh crap. I think I’ve forgotten. It started with an S?”
“Scotty?”
“No that’s not it.”
“Stewart?”
“You’re getting colder.” She wrinkled her nose in amusement. “Stevie? No, Steven, maybe?”
“Ah, See there’s the issue. Steven isn’t a tour guide.”
“An absolute shame.” She shook her head, pouting. “And why not?”
“His manager hasn’t quite given him the chance to even interview.” Steven shrugged sadly.
“Well whoever that is must not be too bright. Steven is the best tour guide in this establishment.”
They both laughed lightly, dropping the act.
“You really mean that?”
“I’d be willing to vouch for you, myself.” She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.
“Well you might get your chance, here she comes now.” Steven joked, motioning at the blonde who was stalking towards them like she was on a mission.
“Stevie! I pay you to sell jellies, not chat up the museum goers! I’m so sorry about him dear-“
“What are you on about? Steven here was giving some invaluable information about mythology for my thesis. Much more than any of your tour guides have given me so far. The only thing you should be sorry about is not giving this wonderful bloke a tour of his own.”
The blonde's face flushed red as she sputtered. Steven watched the girl he had just met in absolute shock and awe, clearly not expecting her to actually do it.
“I’m sure your superiors would rather your guests be satisfied by their visit, far more than their sales differential of 99 pence children’s candy, would they not?”
Donna frowned deeply. She opened her mouth to retort and the mint green guest just rolled her eyes and grabbed a handful of the gummies. “I’ll take them all. And… one of these plushies. Very cute.”She added a stuffed chibi Horus plushie to the pile, shooting Steven a not so sly wink. “See? He’s working.”
Donna huffed and turned on her heel, presumably to make another employee's life hell for a few.
“You didn’t have to do that, yeah?” Steven laughed in shock.
“Ah it’s ok. She seems like a real piece of work. I’ll just bring them back to return them on a day she’s working the desk or something, give her some more hell.”
Steven laughed again, more genuinely. “Oh she’ll love that.”
“Oh I hope so. If it makes your day brighter, I’ll gladly be a menace anytime.” She teased.
“I look forward to seeing you around more then, I guess.” Steven said, ringing up the items. “I never caught your name?”
“You gonna ask me for my number too, Steven?” The giftshopist’s face grew red as he stammered.
“Well.. I… that wouldn’t be… uh”
“Just having a laugh.”
Steven sighed in relief, but he also felt a little down, of course it was just a joke.
“A shame though, I was more than willing to give it to you.” She feigned sadness, looking over her nails before shooting him a wink.
His heart immediately flew up into his throat in excitement, and his eyes grew wide with shock.
She pulled a pen from the cup beside his register and took the receipt from his now outstretched hand, scribbling on the back of it before sliding it back over to him. As she turned away with her bag of stuff, she shot him another teasing look over her shoulder. “Make sure to call me ok? I’ll need to get that receipt back from you to make your boss’s life hell.” She paused. “I think I’ll keep the plushie though. He’s super cute.”
He nodded, still in shock.
As she walked off, Steven looked down at the paper, memorizing the single line there.
Looking forward to that call, Stevie ;) -Milo
He wasn’t exactly sure what just happened, but he was sure glad it did.
***
He called almost right after his shift, afraid that if he waited that he would chicken out.
She was sitting at a corner table in a coffee shop, her third coffee refill growing cold on the table beside her laptop as she rapped under her breath, fingers typing away viciously. She jumped when the music in her headphones was replaced by her ridiculous ringtone, and she had to catch her cup to keep it from falling over onto the keyboard. She swiped to answer, not recognizing the number, and went with a completely normal greeting as she hurried to clean up the minimal spillage.
“Kelly’s pool hall, eightball speaking.”
Well, it could’ve been worse.
“Uh, so sorry, I must have the wrong number-“ His startled voice immediately made her smile.
“Oh! Steven, hey! Sorry about that, I get a lot of spam calls. What’s up?”
He chuckled awkwardly on the other end. “And that’s your go to?”
“Oh no, that was a mild one. I’ve gotten really ridiculous before.” She laughed. “It’s always more fun to try and make them hang up than to just do it yourself.”
“Gotta admit, now I’m curious.”
She checked the time on her laptop. “Why don’t you come meet me for coffee and I can give you some more examples?” She teased. “That is, if you don’t have plans. I’m at the coffee shop near the museum.”
“Oh! Uh no, I’m free, absolutely… free.” He paused. “Wait, which one? There are several nearby.”
“The green corporate one that doesn’t care how long I stay as long as I’m not causing a ruckus.”
He laughed. “Got it. Headed that way then.”
“What do you usually like? Coffee? Tea? I can grab it for you so you can just relax when you get here.”
“You don’t have to, I can get my own.”
“If you don’t give me an answer I’m just gonna surprise you.”
“That’s a terrifying thought. Don’t do that.” She stifled a laugh, smiling into her hand. “How about a brown sugar chai with oat milk? Hot.”
“Got it.”
***
She waved him down as he walked through the door, and he returned the gesture with a little awkward wave of his own. “Hello.” He sat down awkwardly, and she slid his cup to him, closing her laptop. “Have you been sat here all day, then?”
“Since I left the museum, yeah. Deadline’s coming up. Trying to keep ahead of the crunch.” She nodded, sipping on her own new drink. “Thank you again for earlier.”
“No need to thank me, really.” He smiled gently. “If I hadn’t run into you, I probably would’ve been boring the ear off of some other guest.”
Milo frowned slightly. “Sorry for asking, but do you always talk about yourself like that?”
Steven was taken aback. “What?”
“Downplaying yourself. Saying you’re boring and the like. You did it earlier too.” She watched as he looked down at his cup, his face falling. When he didn’t speak, she continued. “Because you’re pretty cool, Steven.”
His head snapped up, and he smiled sheepishly. “You think so?”
“Wouldn’t have invited you to come hang out if I didn’t.” She smiled in return, sitting her cup down. “In fact I think you’re pretty brilliant. Smart, great personality, handsome. All in all a real catch. Only one thing is missing.”
He raised an eyebrow, his cheeks tinged pink from the compliments. “And what’s that, then?”
“You need to be nicer to yourself. All those great qualities, you should own up to them. Wear them with confidence. You’re practically an expert in Egyptian mythology and history, you’re ridiculously charismatic without even trying, and-“
“And you’re a flatterer, it seems.” He teased. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to butter me up or something.”
She grinned, leaning back into her seat. “See, that is exactly what I’m talking about. Harness that power. Use it for evil. Chaos, even. Become the Tour Guide you always knew you could be.”
He coughed out a laugh, choking on the drink had just taken. “Yeah? Trying to pull me over to the dark side, eh, Milo?”
“Is it working?”
“It might just be.”
“Good.”
***
It became a habit, meeting up after Steven got off work and hanging out until the coffee shop closed. Their evenings grew longer as time went on, and they found themselves walking around town until even the street food vendors closed up shop, getting to know each other and trading mythology facts.
This pattern continued until one day while Steven was enjoying his day off, he got a call, interrupting his reading session. As soon as he answered, Milo launched into a happy ramble.
“It’s done! I submitted it! I’m finished! As long as all goes well, I officially have my masters!”
“That’s brilliant, love!” He beamed, sitting his cup of tea down on the table beside him. He turned to look into his fish tank . “She finished her paper, Gus! I’m so proud of you, Miles! Gus is too. Says we should get dinner to celebrate.”
“Yeah? Is Gus paying?”
“Ah see, he would, but he says he spent his last million on renovations for his yacht. Personally, I think he’s just being a bit of a penny pincher, there’s no boat in sight here.” Milo’s laugh over the phone made his heart soar. “So I’ll make my own offer. How about you come over to mine and I’ll make us a nice meal.”
“That sounds like a great idea. We could watch the finale of Avatar together too, not that live tweeting each other as we go wasn’t fun.”
“Oh I would love to see your reaction in person, I still can’t believe you haven’t seen it before now.”
“Quite the mistake on my part.” She giggled. “I’ll stop and grab movie snacks on my way if you send me your address?”
“Already ahead of you.” He said, punctuating his response with a quick text.
“See you soon then!”
“Laters Gators!”
***
“Steven, I didn’t realize we were having a campfire as well, not sure your landlord would appreciate the fire in the flat.” She teased as she stuck her head through his door, seeing the man waving a kitchen towel at a pan that was smoking horrendously. She rushed in and sat her bag down on the table, moving to turn the stove off. As she moved the pan, Steven, in his apron and matching oven mitts, sat down in one of the chairs and slowly pulled the mitts off, looking disappointed.
“I’m terribly sorry about this, I just wanted to try making something good for your celebration dinner and I tried out a new recipe, and-“
She hummed to herself, and turned to rest her hand gently on his cheek, prompting him to look up at her. “It’s okay, dear. Happens to everyone. You have no clue how many times I’ve botched making a meal and just decided to settle for cereal after.” That made him perk up a bit, and he sighed, leaning into her hand. “I appreciate you trying though. It’s very sweet of you. But how about we order our dinner and get out of the kitchen and settle down with some anime, huh?”
“That sounds lovely. I just… wanted this to be nice, yeah?”
“Yeah? Was this meant to be a date, then?”
“Oh… uh, no. I, uh… Unless.. unless you’d like it to be? I just thought that when I got the bravery to ask that I’d be able to properly wine and dine you.” He blushed, offering a sheepish smile.
“Oh, so you’re a gentleman too, huh? And here I was, thinking you were a scoundrel, inviting me over for the first date.”
Steven’s grin grew as she teased him, and he leaned in a bit closer. “Oh is that so? A scoundrel, huh? Is that what you’d prefer, then huh?”
“Hmmm… I dunno. I think… I like scoundrel Steven quite a bit, but I’d love to have the chance to meet gentleman Steven, whenever he’d be ready to come out.” She tapped his nose gently.
“How about, Friday night?” He offered gently, eyes full of warmth and excitement.
“Friday night sounds excellent, Gentleman Steven.”
“Brilliant.”
They stood there for a few moments, regarding each other with silent glee, before Milo pulled away. “Go ahead and get our food ordered, I’m gonna snoop around and then set up the laptop.” She winked at him, walking around, before curtsying poorly at the fish tank, earning a sudden laugh from Steven. “Greetings, Sir Gus.”
“Nah, don’t do that, you’ll give him a big head. His ego’s already inflated enough.”
“Nonsense. I expect an invitation to that yacht when the work is done, I presume you would be an excellent host.” She moved on to look around at Steven’s books. “I’m loving the collection, no wonder why you’re so dang smart. Got a whole library in that brain of yours. Where do you find the time to read all of these?”
He paused, looking up from the app on his phone. “I uh, don’t actually sleep that much. Sleeping disorder. I tend to sleepwalk sometimes, so I try to tire myself out as much as possible before I go to bed.” He eyed her curiously, measuring her reaction. She was still, flipped halfway through a book, her attention turned fully to him. “It happens frequently enough I’ve had to resort to.. uh.. strapping my ankle to the bed and following a routine to make sure I haven’t left the flat, tape on the doorframe and all that.”
“Smart. Explains the sand then.” She closed the book gently with a soft smile, and placed it back on the shelf where she found it.
“Thought you’d be more concerned about it all to be honest, worried I’d be some kind of a creep. I would’ve invited you over sooner if I’d known you’d be cool with it.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Love, everyone’s got their own weird little thing. Maybe if I’d been like a one night fling and saw the ankle restraint-“
He gasped, interrupting her, and she snorted. “I’d never.”
“-maybe then it would’ve been a bit weird, but I fancy myself a decent judge of character, and I trust you. And I really appreciate you being comfortable enough with me to invite me over and tell me all this. If we’re being honest, the only reason I haven’t had you over is because I was worried that my altar and decor may make you run for the hills.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Never. To be fair, you did tell me about your dabbling in divination the first meeting, if I had a problem with it I would’ve run from the hills immediately. I would be honored to be in your space whenever you’d be comfortable.”
She grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll take that into account. Maybe next time I’ll cook dinner for you. Or after dinner on Friday we could watch a movie. I have a projector and quite a collection of films.”
He beamed in excitement. “That would be ace.”
***
With food finally delivered, they settled down to watch the show Milo had set up on the laptop, curled up on Steven’s bed. When the final episode ended, and Milo had finished her enthusiastic rant (with Steven listening intently with heart eyes), they settled into watching a documentary about Ancient Greece per her recommendation. Steven was hanging onto every word, and didn’t notice as her eyes fluttered shut until her head hit his shoulder. He looked down and he sighed in content, carefully laying her down and making her comfortable under a blanket before he stole away to his armchair to read and eventually fall asleep himself.
When Milo woke up in the morning and saw him sleeping face down in his book, glasses askew, she covered him with the same blanket and kissed his forehead lightly before leaving quietly to tend to her own errands for the day. She left a note before she did, not knowing it would be the last time she saw or heard from him for several days.
Thank you for the lovely evening, I can’t wait for our date Friday <3
***
Friday rolled around and brought with it a bad feeling. Milo dressed for her date, studying herself in her mirror, fixing her hair for the umpteenth time. The candle on her desk flickered and popped, and she sighed.
“I know. I’m overthinking. I’m sure he’s just been busy right? He’ll show up, we’ll have a lovely evening, and it’ll be no problem.” She reassured herself, talking to the deity’s candle with one final fluff of her bun. She spun around, her skirt billowing around her knees momentarily, and shot finger guns at herself with a forced smile, before thanking the candle and heading out so that she wouldn’t be late.
He was late. Very very late. A solid couple of hours late, and the waiter was checking up on her for the seventh time as she checked her phone for something. Anything. At this point a rejection would be better than nothing. She refreshed her messages, hoping to find a response to her last text, but it hadn’t even been read yet.
“Kitchen’s about to close, you sure I can’t get you anything, miss?”
“Just the check will be fine.” She said, pushing her glass away from her.
“No worries, it’s on the house.” She nodded and offered a quiet “thank you,” and picked up her purse, and headed home, her heart shattering further with each step.
And the message still showed as unread the next time she checked it.
I just hope he’s ok.
***
Two days later, as she’s sitting at her usual spot at her cafe, she gets an answer, immediately standing up and placing an order to bring with her.
***
"Steven, how long has it been since you've actually slept?" were the first words out of Milo’s mouth when Steven opened the door to his Flat. His eyebags had eyebags, and he was jittering on his feet like he hadn't had anything but coffee for the past three days. In hindsight, maybe bringing him a drink when she came to check on him wasn't the greatest idea.
"I- I don't know... I'm not sure if I have, but if I haven't, that means I'm losing time, and I- I don't want to think about what could that could mean-and I'm so sorry I missed our date, I was so expecting you to be upset and never want to see me again-" the sweet man was rambling, beginning to visibly slip into a spiral. His breathing was growing erratic, she had to do something before he devolved into a complete panic attack.
"It's okay, Steven, really. I'm just glad you're OK. I was more worried than anything. May I come in? We can talk it through, whatever I can do to help you I will."
Steven hesitated, but nodded and stepped to the side, letting her come in. She took a few steps, looking around the studio apartment as she sat her bag and their drinks on the table. Steven closed the door gently behind her, wringing his hands.
"Sorry for the mess, I wasn't expecting-" His eyes were downcast, voice soft as he trailed off. She immediately turned to him, taking his hands in hers.
"Love, it's okay. You don't have to tidy up for me, especially if you're going through it." She assured him, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. His breath caught in his throat, but he still refused to look at her. She raised her hand to his cheek and gently prompted him to look up at her, her eyes soft with understanding. As he met her gaze, his breath caught in his throat. "Deep breaths, love." She moved the hand she was still holding to her chest, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly."Just like that, follow my lead, ok?" He nodded slightly, copying her movements. They stood there for a few moments, until Steven calmed down enough to breathe out a quiet "Thank you" as he gently rested his forehead against hers with closed eyes.
"Anytime..." She assured him. "I'm here for you whenever you need me, Steven."
"Bloody wonderful... absolutely amazing you are." He mumbled, pressing a kiss into her forehead and smoothing down her hair with his free hand.
"Nah, you've got the wrong girl, I'm an absolute menace." She teased, chuckling lightly. They shared a small smile, and Milo pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, making him blush lightly, before she pulled away, leading him to sit down across from her at the table. "Start at the beginning, and we'll work our way from there."
He nodded, squeezing her hand for support. She squeezed back lightly, letting him know all of her attention was on him.
He explained about his sleeping disorder, and how recently he had been having nightmares. "But I swear this one felt so real. And then I found this-" He pulled a flip phone out of his pocket, and a... key?
"I think this is for a storage facility. I recognize this logo." Milo tapped the key in his hand, before taking the phone. It was already open to recent calls. "Who's Layla?" She asked with a raised brow.
"Im... not sure. I called her, thinking that she might be able to help, but she was just upset and worried. She seemed surprised that I picked up, seemed relieved that I was alive? She kept acting like my accent was a joke or something, and she kept calling me... Marc."
"Like the guy in your dream." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
She chewed her lip, sitting the phone on the table and staring at it in thought.
"What are you thinking, love? You're making me nervous."
"I think... your sleeping disorder... might be something else." She said after a long pause.
"What do you mean?"
"I may have finished my masters, but I'm not licensed yet, so I can't *technically* diagnose you..." She pulled out her phone, typing on it real quick before pulling up an article on what she was looking for. "Yeah. Steven, what do you know about Dissociative Identity Disorder?"
"...Not a lot.. you mean the one with different personalities?"
"That's… one way of describing it? Here, read this." She passed him the phone, and watched as his frown deepened as he read. "It results from intense trauma as a child, and it's something that in certain cases may not be identifiable to the person until certain levels of stress are reached or one of the alters makes themselves intentionally known. There's a guy we had to read about that didn't realize that there was anything wrong until his forties, he just thought his blackouts were attributed to his alcoholism, but then he discovered he was living with eight other people in his body... she explained, and his eyes snapped up to her in panic, and she rested her hand on his gently. "I'm not saying that's what's going on with you, but it's incredibly likely that this Marc guy *is* part of you, but you're just now seeing signs."
"This is mental." Steven breathed, leaning back in his seat, and running his hand through his hair, eyes wide."You think I'm crazy, don't you?" He was scared, and she could tell he was worried she was going to leave, so she squeezed his hand.
"Not at all. Everyone has their thing. Some just need a little more help than others. We can find you a good therapist, someone who can help you sort it out, it's gonna be okay."
"We?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Steven." She smiled at him and he let out a breath of relief, his eyes glassy. He opened his mouth to say something, but it slammed shut, and his eyes glazed over like he was zoning out. She squeezed his hand gently, worry plastered all over her face. "Steven?"
His eyes snapped to hers, but they were darker- lacking that spark that Steven had. He pulled his hand away and frowned deeply, like he was trying to intimidate her.
"...Marc?" She raised an eyebrow, looking over the new man in front of her.
"You need to leave." He snapped. "You have no clue what you're getting into, and what you're pulling Steven into."
"So why don't you explain it to me then, because I'm not leaving. I told Steven I would help, and I keep my promises, whether you like it or not." She said plainly, and he stood up from the table, beginning to pace angrily.
"Who do you think you are, some kind of therapist?" He leaned on the table, glowering down at her. She just crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, refusing to budge an inch. "You know nothing about what you're talking about."
"My name is Milo." She offered an introduction, to see if it would help calm him down. "I'm Steven's friend. I do know what I'm talking about because I've been studying in this field for years now. Just finished my masters. Major in Psychology, minors in Religion and Mythology. No, I'm not a therapist, and I don't intend to be." She thought she'd make her intentions clear. "I care for Steven greatly, and that means I'm willing to do what it takes to help him be happy and healthy. And that means helping you too, Marc, so please sit down, because I have no interest in playing intimidation games with you."
He blinked, taken aback slightly, looking over her like she had grown another head.
She motioned for him to sit, and warily he did.
"Thank you. I was worried I was gonna have to play the stubborn card." She cracked a small smile.
"You're telling me that wasn't stubborn?"
"I'd suggest you get used to it, you're stuck with me now." She shrugged.
He rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. "Great."
"Now. I'd like an explanation. At least base level, because if you're into shit that's gonna continue to get you or Steven hurt, I'd like to know."
"That's some dangerous shit, you sure you wanna keep digging, sweetheart?" The nickname made her pull a face.
"Try me."
"You're not going to believe any of it."
She shrugged again. "I said try me. You're not gonna scare me off, if that's what you're trying to do."
"Fine. Your funeral I guess." He crossed his arms and looked her straight in the eyes with an intimidating smolder, and she shot it right back at him. "Geez sweetheart, if my wife catches you looking at me like that, she'll take those pretty eyes out of your head."
"That would be Layla, I assume? Awful nice of you to keep her updated on your wellbeing." Mark's frown got even deeper somehow. "Steven told me she called."
"And he picked up? Great." He rolled his eyes, seemingly frustrated with his alter.
"Not on good terms?"
"I filed for divorce."
"Gotcha." She stayed silent, giving him room to talk more about it or even change topics if he wanted. He just continued to eye her, as if he was deciding to trust her or not. He must have found what he was looking for because he finally broke the silence.
"I'm not a good person, Milo. You'll get hurt- maybe even killed- if you stay around me and Steven."
"You’re trying to scare me off again." She sighed. "And if you're Steven's alter, I doubt you're as bad of a person as you're trying to play yourself up to be."
"Steven's my alter. Not the other way around."
"My comment still stands."
Marc narrowed his eyes. "I've killed people."
She tensed up slightly, but continued her interrogation. "So have soldiers."
"I've killed people for money."
"So you're a mercenary."
"Was."
"So you don't kill people anymore?"
"I never said that."
It was her turn to eye him down, trying to decide if he was lying or not.
"So Steven's dream, he woke up while you were-?"
"On a mission yeah."
Bingo.
"So it wasn't a dream."
"Obviously not."
"Then who was the scary voice talking to Steven when he kept coming to? Another alter?"
"Hell no."
She looked at him expectantly. He shrugged, biting back a petty smirk.
"That was Khonshu, Egyptian God of the moon. I told you that you wouldn't-"
"Believe you? And what if I said I did?"
"I'd say maybe you deserve to be locked up in the psych ward with me." He let the smirk slip out as he leaned forward. "Because there's no way that'd be possible."
"Marc, do you want to know why I went into studying the programs that I did?" She leaned forward slightly as well.
Marc sat back a bit, confused in the way she changed the topic, but mildly relieved the pressure was no longer on him. "Try me."
"I grew up in an incredibly religious family. Went to mass regularly. Crosses and statues of the saints were the main decor in my parents home. Never really understood why they believed the things they did, never 'caught the spirit' so to speak. But the rituals of mass were really interesting to me from an outside point of view, so I never complained. But when we started learning the basics of different mythologies in school, I fell really in love with the stories and how the similarities in different cultures really shined through the metaphors and deities and practices of each."
"What does that have to do with Psychology?" He seemed genuinely curious.
"I'm getting there." Milo smiled genuinely, and it caught Marc off guard. "I found myself on a very quick path to paganism through this hobby, specifically to hellenic paganism and tradition, but I kept it hidden because my family would've probably disowned me. Much sooner than they did at least. When I was sixteen, I went hiking with my friend, and we were being idiots and climbing around on a cliff wall. It wasn't very tall, but it had rained the day before, so it was slick. My hand slipped and I fell and smacked my head really hard. Bled everywhere. Ended up going to the hospital because my friend thought I was dying. Only needed a couple of stitches, but I did have a pretty decent concussion. I had to stay overnight so they could keep an eye on me, and that night, I had a nightmare about my dad getting into a car accident. I woke up pretty freaked out, and my mom was there. I told her about it, to try and get it out of my head. My dad then got into a crash on the way to the hospital to pick us up. Mild one, but the coincidence freaked me and my mom out both. And then for the next few months, it became a regular occurrence for me to either disassociate or fall asleep, have a weird ass dream, and then at some point in the future it would come true. My parents hated it. I thought it was really cool, and I got really really into studying divination. And then I started hearing someone talking to me that wasn't there. And my mom threw me into therapy as quickly as she could."
At this point Marc was listening intently, his hand covering his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed.
"My first therapist was a fucking twat. Rude as hell, didn't respect my religious affiliations, and I refused to go back to her. My second, took a look at my file, let me know she was also pagan and then we talked about our belief systems. She was lovely, but I only saw her for three sessions before my mom fired her for not just throwing me onto meds. By the third, I gave up. It was obvious what my mom wanted, and I wasn't okay with it, so I moved in with my grandma. She embraced what I was going through and did her best to help me when my mom basically said she never wanted to see me again. I started seeing therapist number two again and because of her, I got really into learning and decided my college career would be dedicated to studying psychological studies regarding spirituality's effect on mental health, specifically regarding deity work, which I had determined was what was calling to me. And through that, I found I had a patron in Apollo- and that he was the one talking to me." She finished. "So yeah, I can completely believe the Khonshu thing."
Marc was quiet for a solid chunk of time, letting all the information settle before he spoke.
"I'm not religiously tied to Khonsu. Im Jewish. I refuse to give him anything more than what he already asks for. I just...owe him."
"For what?"
Marc sucked in a sharp breath. "Saving my life."
"I see." Milo sat back in her chair. "I'm going to assume then that it's more of a debt paid by servitude as an Avatar?"
Marc blinked in surprise.
"My best friend in college is also an Avatar. For Artemis. She took off for a mission in America a few months ago and I haven't heard back."
"That... sucks."
"Yeah." It was silent between them both as they both thought to themselves. Milo broke the silence hesitantly. "Can I ask, what's your relationship with Khonshu like? Does he treat you well?"
"I hate it. But I do what I've got to do."
Milo frowned. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. The gods are still tied to the concept of consent. And if it was under duress, it wasn't."
Marc was silent, eyeing her again, no response in sight. When he did speak, he sounded almost sad. "Steven can't know about this. About me. It'll put him in too much danger."
"He already knows about you. And it's hurting him that you won't show yourself to him. He thinks he's crazy. At least if you talk to him, he won't be so close to toppling over the edge. Less of a chance of him waking up mid mission."
"I'll think about it. But you can't tell him about Khonshu."
"He's already aware of the big scary bird-man. At least by his voice. Lying to him won't help him, and it puts you both in more danger than it's worth." She shook her head. "I won't lie to him."
"You don't have to. Just don't tell him anything. I'll talk to him when I'm ready."
"And when will that be?" She pushed.
"Soon. Okay? Soon. Just. I need to go at my own pace."
Milo sighed, her face softening. "Okay. But if you need anything, or danger is coming for you, promise me that you'll keep me up to date. And that you'll both come back."
Marc let out a small smile.
"I'll do what I can."
"Marc, I mean it, if you run off into danger and you don't tell me, I will hunt you down myself. And that's a promise."
"Who's the one trying to intimidate now?" He smirked.
"I swear to the gods, Marc-"
"Steven likes you a lot, you know? Take care of him." His tone was fond, but bittersweet, and it stopped Milo in her tracks.
"I will."
"Also Layla's probably on her way, so have fun with that, bye."
"Marc! You fucking knobhead!" She rubbed her face in frustration, but when she looked back up it was Steven looking back at her, in scared confusion.
"Oh no, it happened again, didn’t it?" He began to stress out. "Are you OK, love?"
"I'm okay, Steven, it's okay. But, if there was any way for me to kick your alter's ass without it also hurting you, I absolutely would, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible."
"That good, huh?" He teased, smiling a bit at her outburst.
"He's definitely something." She laughed lightly, rubbing her temples. "Oh fun fact- apparently he's married... kinda, and she's probably on her way."
"Whoa what? I'm... kinda married? What do you mean kinda?"
"Layla. And apparently he sent her divorce papers, but it's not finalized."
"Lovely. Bloody lovely. Great."
"But! We can worry about that later, when you've actually gotten proper rest, love. So, how about you take a nap?" Milo suggested, trying to stifle a yawn of her own.
"Oh what was that? Cheeky little yawn?" Steven teased.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Grant." She shook her head.
"I think someone else here is tired too." He tapped her on the nose. "You~"
"Is this your way of asking me to sleep with you?" Milo cracked a grin.
"Ooh careful with the phrasing there, love, I'm technically a married man."
"I should definitely go home then." She moved to stand, reaching for her bag, raising an eyebrow at him.
He chuckled, pulling her into a loose hug. "Oh no, please don't go. We can still be nap buddies."
"Nap buddies?" She snorted.
"Yeah. If you'd like."
"I'm not sure your wife would care for that much."
"It's not my wife. Not technically his either for much longer, apparently." He shrugged.
She eyed him warily, dropping the strap of the bag back on the table.
"Fine. One nap, if it means you'll get some rest."
"Brilliant, I swear it. And then after we wake up we could go grab dinner?"
"Oh so it's a nap and a dinner now too? Sounding more and more like I'm being roped into a date, Steven." She looped her arms around his neck.
"Nah... just a dinner between two nap buddies."
"What a shame." She grinned, "I was really hoping it might be a date."
Steven smiled down at her resting his forehead against hers. "Just having a laugh with me, love?"
"Never. " She nudged her nose against his.
"Shame. Because I was. It's absolutely a date."
"Scoundrel."
"Menace."