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‘I can’t believe you agreed to see a movie about mummies,” Marc joked from a pane of glass beside the movie theater’s door.
Steven waved him off. Not even Marc’s comments could damper his mood tonight. He had been waiting to see this movie since it had first been announced and had eagerly asked Layla if she wanted to come with him to see it opening night. She had wholeheartedly agreed, much to Steven’s delight. However, he had completely forgotten to ask Marc if it was okay that he have control of the body and actually watch something with Marc’s wife. It had taken a lot of deliberation before Marc relented, deciding that if things were going to work between all three of them, Steven would have to learn to be as acquainted with Layla as Marc was. It was difficult for him to relinquish control in that area, though he was trying.
‘You better not bore Layla with random facts before or after,’ Marc continued with a roll of his eyes. ‘I don’t need to be reminded how intelligent you are next time I front.’
Steven chuckled. “Can’t make any promises, mate. I’ve been waiting for this film forever!”
‘Somehow I don’t doubt that.’
Luckily for Steven, he saw Layla walking toward him less than a minute later. She gave a friendly wave and Steven couldn’t help but wave back enthusiastically, actually striking the back of his hand against the wall in his excitement.
‘Real smooth, Steven.’
“Layla, it’s so good to see you,” Steven exclaimed as he pulled away from the window and headed over to her. He stood still when he finally stopped in front of her, unsure if he should hug or just smile and nod. Layla made the decision for them both and wrapped her arms around Steven with Steven returning the favor awkwardly a few seconds later.
When they finally pulled away, Layla motioned to the theater’s door. “You ready?”
“You have no idea!” Steven gave a little jump as he fumbled forward to grab the door and swing it open, standing to the side and inviting Layla in first. She gave a small dip of her head before slipping in with Steven right behind.
Once they were inside, Steven was able to see what Layla was wearing and let out a gasp of shock. She was wearing khaki pants with a flowing blouse that was both gold and black with swirls in certain areas. She wore a small gold chain necklace and hoop earrings that dangled just enough that they wouldn’t touch her shoulders if she happened to turn her head from one side to the other.
“You look absolutely ravishing,” Steven breathed before he could stop himself.
Layla tucked her hair behind her ear and couldn’t help but smile wickedly. “Thanks. Marc actually picked this out a while ago.” She pulled on the bottom of her shirt before releasing it to smooth it down. “You look good too.”
Steven wasn’t so sure. He was wearing basically what he always did. He had wanted to wear a suit and tie, but Marc had adamantly talked him out of it. He had even tried to calm his wild hairs only for them to be ridiculously stubborn and he feared that he had only made things that much worse. It had been time to go and Steven had left in a hurry, fretting over whether or not he would be underdressed or what Layla would think of him.
‘Yes, we all look good. Now, can you just order?’
Steven winced at the voice in his head. ‘Look, mate, I appreciate this and all, but can you make yourself scarce for a little while? This is for me and Layla. I enjoy your company, I do, just not right now.’
At first Steven was sure that not only would Marc refuse, but he would become angry. To his surprise, he felt the presence that he usually had with him vanish and he let out a sigh of relief. It often worked out when he and Steven would front together, or at least where they would have a small window to see what the other was doing. Then there were still times when one would completely black out and allow the other some privacy. Steven enjoyed those times as long as they didn’t last too long since it always felt like he was loosing Marc the longer that he stayed away.
“Steven, you alright,” Layla fretted when she noticed him gain a faraway glint in his eyes. She had become familiar with that look from both Steven and Marc and it usually meant that something was brewing just under the surface that she couldn’t see.
Steven gave a ready shake of his head. “Never better, love. Are we ready?”
Layla lifted her bent arm. It took a moment for Steven to realize what she was doing and couldn’t stop himself from eagerly looping his arm in hers and taking her toward the ticketing booth. He had been excited when the movie finally came out that he had bought tickets online so that they could have the best seat in the theater. Marc had kept arguing that there would be absolutely no one else that would be seeing it opening night and that buying the tickets early was pointless. Now it seemed only time would tell.
After showing their ticket conformation number on Steven’s phone, Steven and Layla made their way down the hallway toward their theater: theater 3.
The moment that Steven stepped inside he was hit with the utter coldness of the room. He couldn’t suppress a shiver that was momentarily causing his body to tremble, even as Layla lifted her opposite hand to rest on his forearm soothingly.
“You good?”
Steven nodded. “M’fine. Just colder than I thought.”
Layla dropped it as Steven took her to their seat in the middle of the theater. Steven sat down first with Layla beside him as a few advertisements played on the screen in front of them.
There were a few people scattered throughout the space, though most of them seemed to be alone. Steven took a quick catalog of the exits just in case and tried to shift around the seat to find a comfortable position. It took a little more trial and error than he expected and he was only slightly aware that he was feeling a low level of discomfort that he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t too noticeable, just a hint to let him know that he was feeling it.
Steven wasn’t given much of an opportunity to question it as the previews started. There were a couple action movies coming out, a kids’ animated movie, and one that intrigued Steven. It was about a man that became lost at sea with his brother and they had to work together to save themselves before the ocean could claim them. That was the sort of movie that Steven could see himself watching, especially since the movie boasted that it was based on a true story.
‘It must be a truly terrible way to go, drowning,’ Steven thought with a lump rising in his throat as he swallowed. ‘Can’t even imagine it.’
‘Stop!’
Steven nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard Marc’s roar of anguish in his head. He hadn’t even known that Marc was that close to the surface, let alone able to see and hear what he was. Sure it happened, but usually only when Marc was a mere moments from taking the body. It didn’t feel like Marc was wanting to front, but he was quite vocal about what Steven was thinking.
‘I just meant that—“
‘Stop! I said stop! Stop thinking about it!’
Steven’s mouth gaped as he turned his head to the side. “I can’t very well stop thinking about something when you tell me to stop thinking about it. That just makes you think of it more.”
A wave of unease rolled through Steven and he felt his hands beginning to go clammy. He tried to wipe his hands on the front of his slacks only to find them still damp. His breath started to quicken and he became hyper aware of everything around him. The smells of fresh baked popcorn and butter, the feel of the scratchy seat on his back, and the sound booming from the overhead speakers was all suddenly too much for Steven.
“Marc,” Steven hissed as he lifted a hand to clutch his heart. Tears began to burn in his eyes and, although he hadn’t felt any sadness a couple seconds ago, it seemed that it was the only thing that he could notice.
Noticing that something was off, Layla turned to look at Steven just as the lights began to dim. “Steven,” she fretted as she reached out a hand and grasped Steven’s thigh.
Steven attempted to give her a reassuring smile just as the movie started to play. Unfortunately for him, the very first scene showed a character being whipped as he begged for his life. It was the final nail in the coffin and Steven felt his body rise to his feet despite the fact that he wasn’t doing that.
“Marc,” Steven continued in fear as he realized that his alter was taking control of the body in moments only, as Steven remained in the forefront of consciousness.
Steven sped out of the theater just as he started to fight for breath, feeling lightheaded and unsure of his footing. The darkness around him felt like it was constricting him, closing in at every angle and causing his mind to buzz as he tried to make sense of everything. His movements appeared sluggish even as he wasn’t fully in control of them. He had no idea where Marc was trying to take them, but he knew enough to know that it wasn’t good.
They had only made it halfway to the bathroom when Steven’s legs suddenly gave out and he was left gasping at the drop. He tried to stand only for his legs to give out once more and he had to stretch out his arms to catch himself before he could slam his face onto the cold floor.
Steven scrambled back into sitting position with his knees pulled up to his chest as he fought for breath. It felt as though there was a weight on his chest, not allowing him to take in any semblance of a deep breath. Steven wasn’t sure that he would classify it as painful, but it certainly wasn’t something that he enjoyed feeling. A sob threatened to well in his throat and it took all of his strength not to break down then and there.
“Marc, what’s happening to me,” Steven managed to choke out with one hand clawing at his throat. His nails dug in until tiny pinpricks of blood ran onto his fingernails. Part of Steven knew that what he was doing was harming himself, but the other part of him was completely unable to do anything about it.
A strong wave of terror surged through Steven and images flashed through his mind of water churning and bubbling just above his head while he clawed and thrashed in the murky depths. This gave way to a woman screaming his name while striking him on the jaw with her bare hand while he tried to force himself onto his hands and knees only to be struck down again. Steven could feel the pain coursing in uncontrollable waves through his jaw until he felt the deep ache in his teeth.
“No, no, no, stop it.” Steven’s eyes widened in alarm as he slammed the side of his head against the wall. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! I don’t want to see it!”
Steven continued to smack his head over and over, begging that whatever it was he was seeing was chased away. He had never felt this level of terror and he had no idea what to do about it.
“I don’t want to be here. Marc, please!” Steven gulped for air, lungs burning. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? “Marc?”
Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder and he immediately drew back as though he had been dealt a harsh blow. Moisture glittered in the corners of his eyes and he fought to blink it away until he was able to see that Layla was crouched beside him. He could see her lips moving, though he couldn’t hear any words. The only sounds that he heard felt so far away, that no matter how hard Steven would try to reach out for them, they would always be just out of reach.
“Steven, Steven?” Layla tired once more to grasp his wrist only for Steven to let out a yowl and pull back. She lifted her hands in a show of surrender, swallowing slowly. “Alright, I won’t touch you. Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
Steven shook his head adamantly, choking on breath as tears began to spill down his cheeks.
“That’s okay. Uh...we don’t have to. Can you tell me what I can do to help,” Layla asked calmly, making sure that her tone wasn’t too loud or too soft. It was as though she knew exactly what she should be doing and Steve didn’t have the time nor strength to ask what was happening.
“M-Marc,” Steven gasped out.
Layla tilted her head. Was Marc going to fix it? Or was Marc causing this? Layla realized that it didn’t really matter which one it was, nor was Steven in the best place to answer. This was something that Layla realized she would have to figure out on her own.
“Marc? Do you think it would help if Marc was here? Maybe he could help?”
Steven closed his eyes and took in a deep breath that burned his lungs. ‘Marc, please. I don’t want to do this anymore. It hurts too much.’
Suddenly, Steven’s eyes rolled up in his head and the body slumped even more against the wall.
It only took a few more seconds before Marc took control and was already trying to jump to his feet. It was only Layla reaching forward with her palms on his shoulders, lightly keeping him steady. He pressed up on them momentarily until he realized who it was and his left hand dropped down his forearm and he started to claw into the flesh.
“Marc!” Layla reached out and placed her own hand over the reddened marks he was leaving. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
A challenge glowed in Marc’s eyes when he looked up, but he didn’t act upon it. His hands dropped down to the ground as though they were made of cement. His breathing still came in ragged pants and there was a haze in his eyes as he started up at the ceiling, body vibrating and trembling.
Layla frowned.’That’s the same look Marc gets when he’s trying to disassociate. Only now I doubt that Steven is going to take control after what just happened.’
“Marc, you need to take in some deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” Layla took in a deep breath to demonstrate, releasing it from her nose and doing it once more. “Try and do it with me.”
Marc shook his head adamantly, curls bouncing on his head. “No, no, no, no. I didn’t mean to. I-I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to do what?” This was dangerous waters, and Layla knew it. There was a chance that any questions could make things worse, but it could also have the opposite effect. The only way to know was to try.
Marc stared at her with eyes round. They instantly hardened as he turned to face the wall and stuck it hard with his fist. “You should’ve never taken him into that cave. You knew better and you did it anyway. You killed your brother!”
Layla jolted as she drew back. She kept herself crouched low to the ground, this time with more space between herself and Marc incase he decided to lash out for her. It hadn’t happened before, but she didn’t want to chance it right now.
“Marc,” Layla murmured softly as she tried to catch Marc’s gaze. “Marc, you need to breathe. You’re working yourself up and it’s only going to make things worse. Let’s try and breathe.”
“Your fault! It’s all your fault!” Marc bellowed as he struck his fist forcefully against the wall only for him to howl in rage. His eyes blazed in anger and Layla swore that she saw a flicker of crescent moons show in Marc’s eyes.
Layla shook her head as she leaned closer. It wasn’t too close that it would bother him, but it was enough that he knew that Layla was there. “Look, I know you’re scared and going through something, but you can’t fall back on Khonshu now. If a masked avatar shows up here I doubt everyone is going to be cool about it.”
The pull of his alter ego began to fade and Marc was left still panting and crying, seemingly trying to stop but being virtually unable to.
“Would you like to go somewhere a little quieter,” Layla offered, well aware that people were passing by and shooting sideways glances and whispering about what could possibly be going on.
Marc didn’t verbally answer. Instead, he jumped to his feet and headed down the opposite hallway that led toward the bathrooms at the back of the theater that were hardly ever used. He wasn’t sure how he knew that information, but he was willing to bet that it may have had something to do with the information that Steve knew and had made it readily available for Marc. Marc couldn’t read too much into it as he was forced to drop to the floor as he let out another gasp, memories and panic overwhelming him until he felt himself began to lose awareness, the risk of dissociation building upon him.
Layla let out a breath of relief when she turned the corner and made her way over to him. She crouched down beside him and brushed her hair back that had flopped into her face. “That should be a little quieter.”
Marc let out another strangled cry and went back to attempting to scratch at his exposed forearm in the same place he had priorly went after. This time it was much more deliberate and violent. Layla hadn’t known Marc to engage in such physical harm to himself, though it had been a while since she had witnessed something so volatile when it came to Marc’s trauma.
Layla grunted as she sat with her back to the wall. She took in a couple deep breaths and let them out, allowing herself to stay in the routine of taking in a deep breath for five seconds and letting it out for the same amount of time. Suggesting that Marc do the same was clearly not working. Maybe allowing Marc to come to the realization on his own with her modeling would work as it had before when Marc awoke in the middle of the night plagued by nightmares.
Marc stayed against the wall, fighting the feelings of drowning as he gulped heavily as though stealing the air in front of him. It was only when his brain was able to process Layla beside him, the deep breaths that she was taking soothing him by just realizing what she was doing. His lungs began to instinctively take deep breath as well, his frantic and harsh cries dulling just enough for his fear ravaged brain to process what was going on around him.
Layla nodded encouragingly when she saw Marc looking over to her in interest. She took in a massive breath through her nose and out through her mouth. Her hands stretched out toward Marc, palms up and ready for whatever Marc decided. It was his decision whether or not to make physical contact and Layla didn’t want to do anything to force it.
After a few more moments, Marc rested his own hands on Layla’s hands. He grasped onto them hard and held onto for dear life. His head bowed forward and Layla had to scoot back a little to give Marc the space that he needed to buckle forward and not collide with her bent legs.
Marc fought to breathe rhythmically so that his body didn’t think he was drowning. Mouth gaped open, he swallowed reflexively and gripped Layla’s hands hard.
Layla fought not to wince as she ducked her head down so that she was eye level with Marc. “Copy what I’m doing,” Layla whispered as she took in another deep breath.
Marc looked up, silent tears slipping down his face. He sniffled heavily before opening his mouth again and breathing in and out quickly, unable to deepen it as his lungs constricted once again and left him coughing.
Layla managed to pull one hand from Marc’s grasp and lift it up to his face. She gingerly cupped the side of Marc’s face until his face crumpled. “Don’t.....want......to.....feel......this......way.”
“I know,” Layla soothed as she pulled her hand away and reached for the small handbag that she had brought. It only took a couple moments of digging around before she produced a small pack of travel tissues. “Here. Blow your nose and then try taking in some deep breaths through your nose and release it from your mouth.”
Marc shook his head adamantly, hand stretched out to push Layla’s offered hand with the tissues aside. It was fairly weak and Layla could’ve pushed back if she wanted, though she thought better of it.
“Marc,” Layla began softly, his name a mere whisper on her lips.
Marc’s eyes began to cloud again and she realized that although he was present, he wasn’t at the same time. It was different from his look when he disassociated. This was more like he was completely numb to the world around him and hardly understood anything that was going on around him. There would be no talking him down when he was like this, listless and checked out.
Huffing under her breath, Layla pulled out a handful of tissues and had them in her hand. She mentally went back and forth as she tried to decide what she should do. She didn’t want Marc to be embarrassed when he realized what was happening. On the other hand, he wasn’t going to do this himself. The last thing he would’ve wanted was for someone to see him in this state, so anything that Layla could do to bring him out was what she was going to do.
“It’s okay.” Layla lifted the tissues and wiped the undersides of Marc’s nose, careful not to be too rough. She then folded the tissues and wiped away the tears from his eyes. The tears were mostly dried, but she did her best to erase the evidence of the struggle that Marc had just been through.
“Oh, my love. I’m so sorry all this happened to you,” she breathed as she lifted her hand and brushed a single curl from his forehead.
To her surprise, Marc scooted closer to her and leaned into her, head rested in her lap so that he was laying almost horizontal. Layla moved her arms so that one was draped around Marc’s chest to hold him close and the other rested on his forehead as she ran her fingers through his hair. She murmured soothing phrases that she could recall calmed him when he was plagued by nightmares.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this,” Layla murmured as she lowered her head and kissed Marc gently on the forehead.
Layla was unsure how long the two of them sat there until Marc reached up feebly and took the tissues from Layla’s hand that was rested on his chest. She kept completely still as he brought it up to his nose and blew, coughing lightly in the aftermath. She was about to ask if he wanted her to give him some space when he seemed to curl back against her and take in deliberate deep breaths through his nose and out through his mouth.
Pleased that he was finally embracing the deep breathing, Layla did the same until they became synced in their breathing. It was surprisingly peaceful, at least Layla thought it was, and she found that her thoughts wandered freely until she felt Marc beginning to stir. He propped himself up and it only took a moment for Layla to realize that she was no longer looking at Marc.
“Dear God that was bloody dreadful,” Steven squeaked, voice muted with congestion and hoarse from all the crying.
Layla reached up to rub at his upper arm comfortingly. “What do you remember of it?”
“Just that Marc was fighting to give up control the second that he had it, but something was stopping him. I don’t fully know what, but it was a bit dodgy. Steven gave his head a shake. “But I don’t know what was happening with Marc from outside the body if that’s what you’re referencing.”
That didn’t make much sense, but Layla wasn’t about to question it, especially not when they had just gotten Marc to settle enough that he wasn’t fighting with Steven to give up control of the body. In fact, it was usually the other way around, yet here they were.
Sighing, Layla looked behind her shoulder as she heard people passing by the hallway. “Do you feel ready to go?”
“Go where?”
“Home.”
Steven’s eyes widened in horror. “But, the movie. I-I wanted to take you out....”
That was one of the things about Steven that Layla found so endearing. He would always do anything in his power to help others, including her. He put their needs above his own, which constantly got him into trouble. It was something she knew that he and Marc were working on, but she had no idea if they had made any progress or not.
“I think that we can schedule a rain check,” she offered as she took his hand in hers and began to gingerly run her fingers over his knuckles to calm him. “Steven, we’re not completely sure if going back in will trigger Marc again. Let’s come back another day and we’ll see it, I promise. Maybe next time we can skip the previews.”
As much as Steven wanted to argue it, he knew she was right. He didn’t want to do anything that would effect Marc negatively and he guessed that his alter needed space and compassion right now. The movie could definitely wait for another day.
Reluctantly, Steven nodded in understanding, shoulders slumping.
Layla scrambled to her feet and helped Steven to his. She then wrapped her arm around his waist to hold him close and to keep him grounded. There was no telling where mentally Steven and Marc were and the last thing that they needed was anymore disassociation. It may be a given, but at least this way Layla would be able to feel it as soon as it occurred.
The two walked out of the cinema, Layla doing the majority of the leading as they headed to the bus stop. Ordinarily this would’ve been where she and Steven parted ways as Steven was still not keen on spending time just with Layla in her apartment. He would often say that he couldn’t leave Gus 2.0 based on what happened to his predecessor. Whether or not that was a farce, Layla wasn’t sure, though she wasn’t going to be the one to call him out on it.
They stood in silence with Steven gingerly pulling on Layla, though he made no real attempt to wriggle himself free. Exhaustion showed on his feathers as he fought to keep his eyes open. His head was bowed forward, shoulders hunched. Periodically he would turn his head to the left as if he was hearing something before drawing it back to neutral.
It didn’t take long for the bus to roll up and the doors to open. Layla stepped inside first, forced to release her grip on Steven as they both couldn’t fit side by side if they wanted to climb the stairs. She waited patiently for him to follow her, the two picking seats toward the front. Layla recalled that Marc had once said that he preferred it as it kept them close to an exit if they needed to make a quick getaway. It was unclear whether or not Steven felt the same, but he didn’t say anything against it, so Layla took that as a sign he didn’t mind.
The bus was relatively empty save from a few blue collar workers in the back, a college aged student reading a massive textbook in the middle, and a bleary eyed older man directly across from them. The only sounds that could be heard was the rumble of the bus’s engine along with soft conversation from the workers at the back.
Layla suddenly felt Steven shift against him, head shaking back and forth rhythmically. It appeared that he was trying to calm himself down from what Layla could see. However, it was violent in it’s own right, sharp and unsettling for one to notice. In fact, Layla was aware the older man across from them give Steven a confused look and clutch his satchel closer to his chest.
‘He’s not doing it on purpose,’ Layla wanted to hiss. She bit her tongue and swallowed her remark. It wasn’t worth a fight, nor to embarrass Steven unnecessarily. They had experienced enough for one day.
She reached out and rested her hand on his knee and squeezed. She had meant to pull his attention to keep him in the here and now, however he took it a step further and tucked his head down so that his cheek was rested on her shoulder and she was holding the entire weight of his head.
“It’s alright,” Layla soothed as she whispered against the top of Steven’s head. “We’re almost home.”
Steven made no sign that he heard her. Layla didn’t take it personally, instead considering it an honor that Steven felt so at ease with her. This was a vulnerability that Marc never showed, least of all when they were out in public. With Steven this sorta thing was a lot easier and Layla wished at times that it could be the same with Marc.
Thoughts wandering, Layla kept her attention focused on memorizing the stops so they didn’t miss where Steven needed to get out considering he was no longer paying attention. She couldn’t blame him after the events of the evening.
When the bus finally pulled up at the stop closest to Steven’s flat, Layla patted his thigh. “We’re here,” she whispered.
Steven instinctively rose to his feet but didn’t even try to turn toward the exit. It wasn’t until Layla jumped up as well and took his hand that he went without a struggle, even nodding his thanks to the bus driver. It was just a Steven thing to do that Layla couldn’t help but feel relieved that it seemed he was bringing himself out of his confused state.
They walked the short distance to his building and got on the elevator to his floor. Layla remembered exactly which door led to Steven’s apartment, which was a relief considering that he tried to keep walking even after Layla stopped at the door.
“Isn’t this one yours,” she questioned, tapping on the numbers hanging on the door.
It took Steven a moment to process what she was saying before nodding bashfully. He reached into his pockets and fumbled with the key, hands trembling as he tried to insert the key into his lock.
Layla reached out to take her hands around his to steady him until he was able to unlock the door.
Steven walked in without saying a word while Layla debated about going in. It could be an invasion of privacy as Steven hadn’t offered for her to go inside.
Steven took a few steps inside before looking over his shoulder, eyes glittering in need. That made up Layla’s mind for her and she headed inside, door pulled closed behind her.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink,” Layla offered as she motioned toward the kitchen.
Steven turned around to face Layla only for his eyes to roll up in his head as he gave a violent shudder. Layla waited patiently, knowing exactly what was happening. She had been expecting it honestly considering that Steven had been oddly quiet this entire time. It had only been a matter of time that Marc took the body.
A low hum rolled in the back of Marc’s throat as he fixed Layla with a confused stare. “What are we doing here,” he asked, voice rough.
“Steven and I thought it would be best to save the movie for another day.” Layla didn’t tell him that the movie may not be a possibility if Marc was going to react so intensely to the preview as well as the first scene of the movie. There was no telling what else would be in it and Layla would be damned if they did anything that would voluntarily cause them both pain like that again. Movies would come and go; it wasn’t a big deal.
Marc took a moment to catalog his surroundings as if he didn’t believe where he was. It didn’t take long for him to pad over to the bed, shedding clothing as he went.
Layla was right behind to pick everything up and depositing it on a chair in the corner of the room. Steven would thank her later that she didn’t allow Marc to make their flat any messier than it already was.
Once Marc had stripped down to his boxers, he sat down on the edge of the bed, eye strained on the door. Layla hadn’t replaced the locks yet, a realization that caused Marc much more distress than he previously experienced. The locks were more of a Steven thing than his; why was his body working himself up over it?
Layla followed where Marc was staring and made a beeline for the door. She began to lock the door with every lock that Steven had installed. Overkill came to Layla’s mind as she finished locking with the deadbolt. She would never say anything to Steven, but she wasn’t quite sure what all these locks were accomplishing when he now knew that he was sharing a body with Marc and he was the reason Steven believed he only had a sleeping disorder.
After she finished, Layla made her way back to Marc cautiously. She approached directly in front of him, afraid that any sudden movements would spook him. He wasn’t an animal, that much Layla knew, though in this situation Layla wanted to be prepared just in case.
She came to sit beside him, the bed dipping under her added weight. She left just enough room between them so that Marc didn’t feel claustrophobic as she drew closer.
“Hey,” she ventured softly. “How are you doing?”
Marc looked up, eyes a deep storm of regret and frustration. His mouth opened only to be closed a moment later and a full body shiver ran up his spine.
Layla had seen Marc go silent a couple of times. He was just as adapt to shut down as he was to completely blow up in anger. Honestly, Layla wasn’t sure which one she preferred.
“We don’t have to talk about any of this now, or ever if you want to keep it to yourself.” It pained her to say it. There was so much that she was sure that Marc was hiding and she wanted so desperately for him to actually confide in her about. It was something that couldn’t be forced no matter what Layla wished or how much she pushed. That meant she would have to follow his lead, whatever that may be.
Marc managed a tiny nod, breath billowing from his nostrils in the facade of a deep sigh.
Layla reached out and ran blunt nails up and down his spine. A smile crept onto her face when she felt Marc lean into it, relishing in her touch. There was a time not too long ago where he would push her away no matter what comfort she was trying to give.
“Why don’t you get some sleep,” she suggested as she leaned over to rest her hands on his shoulder, followed by her chin. She pressed her lips softly to his cheek and withdrew before he could push her away.
Marc looked up, face portraying how desperately he wanted to say something. He tried, and yet all that came out was a tired croak. Frustration pulsates through Marc and he slammed a fist onto his bed a couple times until Layla reached out and touched two fingers to his wrist, the effect immediately as though Layla had tranquilizer him.
“Stay,” Marc finally managed to choke out with a look to his bed. “Please?”
Layla could count on one hand the amount of times that Marc had said please when he asked for something. It wasn’t that she considered him rude; there was just no need for it. Yet here he was, asking for something that he feared Layla wouldn’t allow and he looked almost embarrassed to be asking.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, of course.”
Marc didn’t waste anytime in laying sideways and pulling the sheets over his slightly trembling body.
Layla momentarily stood, careful not to disturb the ring of sand that Steven still insisted that they keep. She pulled off her pants and shirt before climbing in after him.
At first they laid a few inches apart. Layla didn’t want Marc to feel like she was crowding him and she was also unsure of what exactly they were doing.
It didn’t take long for Marc to roll over so that he was facing her. Layla was about to ask if something was wrong when his face crumpled and he started to cry.
A stone of cold dread dropped in Layla’s stomach as she pulled herself closer to him and wrapped her arms around his head, bringing it close to her chest. She rested her chin on top of Marc’s head, feeling her lover shake and shudder with the full body sobs that he was trying to keep silent. Layla was unsure why he was breaking down, but she wasn’t about to ask. All she knew that was that Marc needed her and she was going to do all she could to comfort him.
“Shhh, shhhh, everything is going to be alright,” she soothed, fingers brushing aside his unruly curls and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here. Shhhh. Shhhhh.”
Layla had no idea what Marc was going through and was shaky on how to best support him. But, she knew that she would be with him and Steven through thick and thin, through panic attacks and dissociative episodes. She often felt like she had no idea what she was dong, but she would always be there especially when Marc was drowning in his own memories.