Chapter Text
Jake had found himself in a lot of fucked up situations, but he'd never been pulled to front in a situation quite like this before.
He was floating alone on an inflatable ring in the middle of a serene pool. Lounge chairs were sprinkled liberally around the edge, with a small bar in the background. What looked like a hotel tower was off to one side, and walking paths connected the pool to nearby structures. Everything was tasteful and impersonal.
It was some kind of tourist trap resort, he was sure, but there weren't many people around. He scanned the area for whatever threat might have brought him out. His eyes fell on Layla, who was wearing a truly ridiculous straw hat and was either asleep or nearly asleep in one of the lounge chairs. She hadn't been in the water, at least not recently. Her white sundress was twisted between her ankles, and her sandals were kicked haphazardly by her chair. She looked fine...she looked relaxed, or serene even.
Despite the peaceful scene, his hands were shaking and his face was wet with tears. Every muscle in his body was tense. Pure adrenaline and a little shock.
He could be anyplace in the world with palm trees next to the sea, but Jake was dimly aware that there had been plans to meet Layla somewhere in Dubai. He supposed that must be where they were. When Jake had last fronted, they'd been in London. He'd been lobbying to head to New York, at least for a while, but Steven had been dragging his feet. And Marc, like always, took Steven's side when he'd deign to get involved at all in the discussion.
Jake took stock of the situation, trying to imagine what would have prompted Marc or Steven to push him forward like this, or what could have prompted either man to have a panic attack - given the scene, he thought the problem was probably more internal than external. There was literally nothing going on. He was wearing swim trunks gaudy enough to be worthy of Steven, but he wasn't sure whether Steven even knew how to swim.
Sighing, Jake leaned forward to catch his reflection in the water. "One of you want to go ahead and fess up here? Let me in on what's going on?" His watery reflection wavered a bit, but no one answered.
Everyone in the system knew that water was a trigger for Marc. He and Marc had been Marines, and that meant they operated in the water, but Jake took over anytime that they were in the water for any length of time. Marc just didn't handle it well. He knew HE hadn't gotten them into this situation, and he could not imagine that Steven would have. Steven knew about Marc's issue with water as well as he did and wouldn't risk putting Marc in a bad situation - especially with Layla around. Steven was crazy about Layla, and worried constantly that Marc would blow it with her.
Marc, on the other hand, had a long history of putting Marc in bad situations. He tried to imagine what would have brought him out here. It was hot, for sure. Layla seemed to be enjoying the downtime, but Marc - like Jake - could rarely sit still for long. Did he really get that bored? Bored enough to put himself in a situation where he would be likely to need Jake, of all people?
He understood Marc, usually. Far better than he understood Steven, anyway. He and Marc were both too competitive to ever want the other's assistance, although it did happen sometimes. Typically, Marc preferred to draw on Steven for help. Which Jake wholeheartedly preferred, unless the kind of help Marc needed was help kicking someone's ass or solving some strategic problem.
Jake tipped himself into the water and swam toward Layla. Maybe she could help sort out what was going on. It was a beautiful pool, and day. Jake had zero issues with water, and he hadn't properly been swimming in years. He kicked hard and dove under the water so he could enjoy the sensation of being immersed. He let the panic from before start to melt away.
That's when he saw it. His heart rate kicked up a few notches until he realized it was a doll laying on the bottom of the pool, and not a child. Its artificial hair was swaying around its face as the water circulated. What sunlight penetrated the water illuminated sightless, open blue eyes. Jake surfaced.
"Marc," Jake whispered, "Only you could have such fucking luck."
His heart ached more than a little, because he could now see exactly what had happened as if he'd been there. Or had been aware then. Or whatever.
Marc had gotten bored and restless but didn't want to interrupt Layla's sunbathing. He decided the quiet resort pool was fairly safe. He probably sat with his legs in the water, and still felt calm and relaxed. He decided to drift around in the pool and enjoy the breezes coming in from the coast. And then his peaceful time with Layla was torn away from him by an old tragedy that he had not been able to prevent, or escape. Jake was glad, as he always was, that he hadn't existed when Marc experienced that particular horror.
It was Marc's to bear, and he bore it as well as he could. But when he couldn't, well...that's when he and Steven jumped in.
Jake thought hard about Steven, catching his reflection again.
"Steven Grant, get your ass up," he whispered.
Steven didn't immediately appear, but he began to respond.
"Jake? Was there are barfight? What's going on? What are you doing out front?"
Marc would not want Layla to know anything was wrong, and she would know something was wrong if Jake showed up at their romantic seaside vacation. If it was time to argue with customer service or fight human traffickers, then Jake was your guy. But no one was less suited to a relaxing seaside resort than Jake. He probably would start a barfight if he had to be there more than a few hours just for something to do.
"Stevie, do you think I want to front here? You need to get out front, and cover for Marc for a bit with Layla." Jake hesitated. He wasn't sure that Marc would even want Steven to know what happened, so he'd shoot for vague. Because Steven also had an annoying tendency to overshare with Layla. A hazard he'd try to avoid, for Marc's sake. Jake, like Marc, preferred to keep his horrors to himself. "You know he and Layla have been patching things up this weekend. He probably just needs a few minutes to pull himself together."
Hell, as far as Jake knew they might have been there to patch something up, although she looked pretty happy to him. He was honestly more interested in catching up with the Mets than in Marc's love life, so long as Marc and Layla were both generally okay. But, knowing Marc like he did, he figured it was a safe bet that he had something to patch up with Layla at almost any time.
Steven bought exactly zero of his shit, as per usual. "Well, if Marc needs a break from his WIFE then he can explain that to her - I'm not helping him hide from Layla. He's going to have to man up and do it himself." This was the kind of thing that puzzled Jake. Why the hell would Steven care if Marc ditched his wife, unless Steven minded hanging out with Layla? Jake was completely sure Steven loved any excuse to hang out with Layla.
Layla was waking up and running her fingers through her hair. She'd start looking for Marc in seconds. "Steven, you have to cover for him, she can't find me here," Jake hissed. "Look where we are," Jake gestured to the water around them. "Marc was in the pool when I got thrown to the front!"
Jake could feel the pulse of panic from Steven as he began to twig the situation. Without a word, Jake felt himself being smoothly pushed aside as Steven straightened up and walked toward Layla without missing a beat.
"Are you finally awake, luv?"
With an internal sigh of relief, Jake checked out of consciousness and reached out for Marc.
Marc was a ball of tension and fear, and his mind was running wild. Jake briefly got an image of Marc in the middle of a lightning storm. Marc was in crisis, and it was dangerous. Jake tried to push the visualization away before he got stuck there with Marc.
That's the thing about being a system. Jake had his own personality and interests and relationships, but he, Marc and Steven were one man. And if Marc was freaking out this badly, he was going to affect everyone else in the system, and this was not a good time for them to fall apart. Although Jake wasn't interested in Marc and Layla's love life, he felt better when Marc and Layla were happy with each other. He felt better when Steven got more sleep and ate more protein or when he fell in love with some new pet project or idea.
And when Marc, trainwreck that he was, began falling apart Jake and Steven began to fall apart, too. So he had to get Marc to keep it together, so Steven could keep it together, so they could all keep it together. He, Jake Lockley, the least emotionally capable member of their system by a lot, had to get Marc to calm down and deal with his feelings.
Jesus. The barfight scenario would have been far, far, preferable.
"Marc, I've got it all sorted out. Stevie's got Layla, yeah? Why don't you go hang with them for a while? Don't want Steven and Layla to get too worked up together or they'll make us go to some damn museum or ancient mosque or something."
Jake tried to visualize himself with Marc in the electrical storm that he'd glimpsed earlier but tried to push the visual toward blue skies and calm. He tried to visualize a perfect late spring Chicago day for them, trying to push Marc's mood out of the fractured panic that had captured him. He pushed gently at Marc, trying for calm and reassuring. It was their way of silently asking to talk, to join up for a moment in the other's space. Something he'd only done a handful of times with Marc.
Marc could either choose to accept what Jake was offering or reject it completely. If he rejected it, Jake could find himself sucked completely into Marc's misery. Or Marc might wall himself off so he couldn't communicate at all. It had happened before.
All he could do was wait.
He was suddenly with Marc who was sitting under a tree in a park. The sky was black and unsettled looking in one direction, but he couldn't tell whether the storm was approaching or leaving. Not a great situation, but not a rejection.
Jake let out the mental equivalent of a sigh of relief.
Marc was sitting on a park bench now and the details of their shared vision were shaping up slowly as they shared a space. Jake's perspective shifted again, and he found himself sitting next right beside Marc - also unusual since Marc typically kept him at an arm's length away. This was also a good sign, that Marc would let him this close. And a bad one, when Jake knew Marc wouldn't usually be okay with this.
Jake fought against his natural impulse to make a stupid joke or pick a fight with Marc. He decided silence might be better, anyway. He was not good at this. This was Steven and Layla shit - dealing with Marc's feelings.
Jake took a minute to just breathe and worked on filling in the imaginary space some more. He imagined background noise, because this place kinda looked like a park he knew from Chicago and the scene was less creepy if there was some noise.
If he was here, then Marc must want him here. Jake let him have some space.
Jake was nearly startled when Marc actually started to talk.
"I don't see how Layla can be with me," he said.
Marc was staring unseeing into the distance, his back straight with the perfect fucking posture he always had, like he was about to be inspected. "I'm a shit husband. I can't even manage to be normal when everything is going well. Not even on the most perfect, quiet day. How am I supposed to do this?"
Jake let out an internal sigh. This was classic Marc - turning some totally random bad luck into a referendum on him as a person.
"Marc, nothing fucking happened. The system worked. You needed someone else to take over for a minute, which I did and you're welcome. I knew Layla needed Steven to keep her company until you could get back, and he didn't skip a beat. She has no idea anything was ever wrong."
Marc's mask began to crack, and he looked at Jake for the first time. His composure was slipping, and his dead-eyed stare was gone. His entire face was beginning to blur. He didn't want Jake to see him.
The problem Jake had was that he didn't really do shame. That seemed to be Marc's department. If Jake needed something, he didn't get worked up about it. Shame was a luxury for people who didn't have to get things done, as far as he was concerned. Jake had never had that particular luxury. He didn't understand why Marc let himself carry this shit around with him.
"I'm dead weight to her," Marc continued. "She's got you, and Steven. You're not the ones that fall apart on her, run out on her. She doesn't need me for anything, and I'm only dragging her down, and you guys with me."
Marc believed - underneath everything else - that Jake was their strength, Steven was their heart, and that he was somehow responsible for all failure and weakness of any kind. It wasn't noble. It was annoying. And heartbreaking.
Jake knew that secretly, Marc wanted to find some way out that didn't hurt anyone. He wanted permission to disappear and leave them to live their own lives. And he had, on a few occasions, planned and attempted to do just that. He left Layla for months, hiding from her, and hiding from Steven and the world. Would have hidden forever, maybe, if Khonshu hadn't forced him into his service. The old bird, and Steven, had probably saved his life.
His was an unpopular opinion in the system, but Jake knew it was true. And he was glad they were all back on board with Khonshu, even if the others were conflicted about it.
And it hadn't been only the one time Marc tried to disappear, although that was the worst time. When Marc got overwhelmed or depressed, he'd just leave - sometimes for weeks - and wall himself off from Jake and Steven. Jake wouldn't care so much, except that it set Steven off. And okay, maybe it set him off, too. Marc didn't like to think about how connected they all were.
It was all bullshit. Jake was starting to get angry.
"Marc Spector, you are not disappearing on them again, you hear me? They think that you can't handle THEM when you do this - just slip away for weeks or months and let them wonder if you're coming back at all? Listen to what I'm saying: you, me and Steven are one man. One weird, fucked up man. We didn't fail Layla, which means you didn't fail her. If you want to beat yourself up for getting panicked, I guess that's your business. But you also have to accept that the system didn't let anyone down."
He softened his tone and his voice. His anger was making Marc more upset. The blurring was getting worse. If he pushed him any more, Marc might eject him altogether.
Jake tried for some of that empathy Steven was always trying to tell him to he needed to get. Marc feels like a failure. He needs to remember where he's succeeded? He tried a new approach.
"You know, I saw Layla by the pool when you shoved me out front." Marc's emotional state had his teeth on edge, but he tried to me kind. "I don't know what you guys have been up to since we got to this resort place, but she looked completely relaxed and happy. I don't think things have been going bad for you and Layla. It seems like they have been going pretty well. I bet she would say she needs you to stick around."
Marc face was becoming more clear now, and he was crying. Jake decided to trust his instincts. He put his arms around Marc and drew him toward him. After a moment of resistance, Marc leaned in. Jake tried to calm himself and let Marc cry on his shoulder. He wanted to keep his voice even and avoid injecting more emotion into the situation than it already had.
"I can take Layla dancing, Marc. I love her, you know I do. I'll fix that shitty Vespa death trap she likes to drive around or help her attack roving gangs of child traffickers or do basically any other thing she wants me to do. I'll meet any need she has that I can meet."
Marc was still in his arms, but his breathing was evening out. He was listening.
"Shit, I even reformatted her hard drive and reinstalled her operating system. THAT's love."
This earned him a slightly amused snort.
"Steven adores Layla, and he'll watch those terrible musicals with her and read those god-awful boring books they both love. He'll entertain her and watch over her with everything he has. He loves her, like we all do. He even buys her those smutty manga books they both love that you and I pretend we don't know about."
Jake really needed Marc to hear this. He knew that Marc would always want to disappear sometimes - but he had to stop this. Every time he did that, it broke her heart.
"But she didn't marry me or Steven. She doesn't want to strip us down to the bones and understand everything that makes us tick. I can't give Layla what she wants, I can never give that to her because I'm not wired like that. And because she doesn't want that from me. She wants it from you. Only you. She needs intimacy, I guess you call it? And Steven and I are not complete without you. We cannot love her completely without you. And if she wants us, for whatever fucking reason, we have to give her everything."
"And if you won't give it to her, she'll leave all of us. I can't keep her without you, Marc. We can't keep her if you don't fight for yourself. So you're not just fighting for yourself. We need you to fight for the system. We have a little bit of peace and happiness with her, and we don't get much of that. We never get that."
Jake realized that he was crying now. Fucking Marc, this is exactly what he was talking about. They were one man, and Marc was tearing them all apart with his dysfunction.
Marc's took a shuddering breath and Jake let him go immediately. Marc decided to turn the tables and was holding him tightly. The sky was getting slightly lighter, and although thunder rumbled quietly from the storm, it was clear it was headed away from them.
Jake struggled to get his shit back together. He mostly succeeded and straightened up and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
"I'm not going to tell you you're perfect, Marc. But you created Steven and got Layla to fall in love with you - so you're a long way from a failure in my book."
The scene dissolved, and Jake knew he was being dismissed. But Jake caught something like resolve and gratitude from Marc as he headed back to his wife. Jake tried to let him feel his pride that Marc was facing his life, and his slight annoyance. Just so Marc would know everything was okay between them.
Jake was glad to leave him to it deal with whatever was going on with Steven and Layla.