Work Text:
“I really appreciate this.”
“I’d appreciate it if we could quit talking about it.” Marc did his best not to snap at his wife.
Layla sighed. “Look, I’m sure Steven or Jake would switch with--”
“I don’t need them to--” Marc cut himself off before he could get too heated. “I don’t like Jake using magic on us, and I really don’t like borrowing the goddamn suit.”
“So let one of them take over. They said they would.” Layla replied.
“Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to squash the forming headache. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Here.” She handed him a baseball cap with Captain America’s logo splashed across the front. “Between this and the dark it should be easy enough to pass you off as a kid.”
“Oh, not the fact that I’m three and a half feet tall?” He snapped.
“You said you didn’t want to talk about it.” Layla pulled into the parking lot of the arena.
“I don’t.” He fixed the cap on his head, pulling it low. “You already know how I feel about this. If it wasn’t to stop a literal monster…”
He trailed off. Why was he even complaining? He’d be able to help Layla capture a monster clown-thing before any kids got hurt. This was the superhero dream.
Except he wasn’t a superhero anymore, he was borrowing the suit from his Alter and sometimes-willing-to-share god to help his actual super wife. And he had to look like a damned child to do it.
‘Marc, I’d be happy to--’
“I said NO, Steven.” Marc growled, flinging the car door open. “Just let me do this, okay?”
‘Alright. Well, we’re here if you need us.’ Steven faded away, leaving Marc and Layla to the mission.
He hopped out of the car, trying to ignore how long it took for his shoes to hit the pavement. Layla came around to his side of the car and slipped her (comparatively) massive hand around his.
Right. They had to sell this. He stifled a groan as they walked towards the venue.
Taweret had tipped Layla off that an evil something-or-other (Steven had been pretty spooked when he’d heard the name) was skulking around this place. It was trying to feed, and apparently happy children tasted the best. Thus hanging around for whatever Barney ripoff was currently in vogue with preschoolers. But it wouldn’t show up around adults.
Layla needed bait.
So here he was, freshly downsized, dressed as brightly as he’d allowed, trying not to let on that he was actually approaching middle age. The kids were all staring up at the inflated cartoon figures, the adults busy trying not to lose sight of their kids.
“Let me go into the restroom alone. Perfect cover to lose track of a kid.” Marc muttered as they passed through the robotic turnstyle.
Layla nodded. “You can get under the risers?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t patronize me.”
“Sorry. It’s just…We haven’t really gone after anything magical since the cult.” She said, tense. “I like beating up humans a lot better.”
Oh God, he was a MORON. Layla was stressed, and he’d been too busy feeling prickly to notice. “Hey, I can probably take this thing by myse--”
“You finish that sentence and I will make you sit in a car-seat on the way home.”
“...You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” She dropped his hand as they approached the washroom. “I’ll follow you, but I can’t do anything until the thing shows itself. Otherwise it will just wait until tomorrow.”
“Got it.” He ducked into the washroom. It was full of people, but nobody spared more than a glance at him. He just went around and exited through the other door; Layla watched her phone, the very picture of a bored Mom.
Perfect.
He hurried towards the seats, just fast enough so it seemed like he was following an adult. The venue was one of those places that changed shows and attractions a lot, so the seats were on old-school highschool gym risers. Perfect for a monster to hang out under and snatch a kid.
Marc wasn’t too worried about taking down the creature. Even if for some reason he couldn’t call up the suit, Layla had his back. This was no big deal.
He darted through the small space between the seats and the wall; it would be a squeeze for any adult, even Layla.
The underside was about what he expected; metal framework, lots of candy wrappers, spilled drinks, programs, and various show debris. The sounds from the concert were a bit muffled by the seats, but it was still loud.
Everything was too loud when Jake changed their size.
Too loud, too rough, just…too much. He didn’t like how much more everything was.
How much less he was.
It wasn’t like he was the tallest guy. But he’d never felt physically inadequate like he did when Jake altered them. He didn’t so much mind looking up at Layla as he hated her looking down on him.
There was a difference even if he couldn’t articulate it.
He walked further under the bleachers, waiting to feel eyes on his back.
Steven didn’t seem to mind. Now that they knew any changes would be undone, he almost seemed to enjoy riding shotgun on Jake’s espionage missions. It was a nice balance between doing super stuff and watching a good movie.
Marc had seen enough action, and didn’t feel compelled (often) to join them.
Jake viewed the power as a tool, nothing more. He didn’t have anything to prove to anyone. And if he needed to kick some ass while altered, well, he found a way to do it.
So why the fuck couldn’t Marc get over it?
It was dumb, macho man bullshit. He was still him. If he wasn’t, Layla wouldn’t have asked him to help. She didn’t treat him any…
Well, not much different.
She tried not to offer help when Jake did this to them, but the unspoken words were always there. And it rankled him. It would bother him if it was anyone, but it was Layla, damnit. He wanted to be strong for her, not always needing her help. Especially since his access to superpowers was now tenuous at best.
“Well helloooOOOOooooOOO.” A creepy voice crooned from behind him.
The hair on the back of Marc’s neck rose. “Yeah, that seems about right.”
He forced himself to turn around, cap still pulled low. At the very edge of his vision, he saw Layla slide under the bleachers and start to close the gap.
“Are you LOST little boy?” The thing shimmied in the dark and Marc held off on rolling his eyes. “I’ll HELP you.”
“Oh for God’s sake, did that ever fool any kid?” He muttered under his breath. This was ludacris.
The thing was dressed in shiny green and purple. It looked sort of like the inflatable characters they’d passed on the way in. If they’d been halfway deflated and painted over with some seriously gnarly brushes.
There were a lot more teeth, too.
“I’ll be your FRIEND.” The thing was getting way too close for comfort. Marc took a few steps back. Layla would be in striking range in a few more sec--
Then one of the thing’s arms shot out and wrapped around his. It was way longer than any human’s arm should be.
“Huh-uh, nope.” He summoned the suit. “Time to say goodnight, Krusty.”
The thing reeled back from the moonlight. “What--”
*KLANG* Layla’s sword struck the monster in the back.
It let go of Marc, whirling around to face her. “You DARE--”
Marc launched two crescent darts. They buried themselves in the creature’s arms. Its howl of rage was drowned out by the concert above; apparently the characters had taken the stage.
“You alright?” Layla called as the thing spun around.
“Yes.” Marc didn’t clamp down on the anger; he could use it. “I’m smaller, not made of china.”
“Well, your ego’s as fragile as ever.” Layla rolled her eyes and scored a deep swipe into the thing’s leathery side. Apparently those clothes were actually part of it.
“What does THAT mean?” He growled, dodging as the thing swiped at him.
“Oh, please. You always get like this when you need help.”
“I don’t need--”
“Yes, you do! I’m sorry Marc, but sometimes you need help.” She clipped the end off one of the thing’s arms. Foul-smelling black ooze dribbled out as the thing screamed. “And it doesn’t mean anything about you other than that you’re human.”
“Yeah, all humans have head-mates who shrink them on a semi-regular basis.”
“Well, you already had unique challenges.” She plunged the swords into the thing’s chest. It writhed, screeching and slashing. “But you need to get over it or tell Jake he’s not allowed to do it anymore.”
He took a running leap and punched the monster in the face. “Yeah, and when he can’t complete a mission because I was being shitty--”
“THEN HE’LL FIND ANOTHER WAY!” She pulled her swords back. “You always did. And he’s the one who decided to keep serving Khonshu. Not you.”
“Yeah, I just reap the benefits.”
“Is that what this is about?”
“IT’S ABOUT A LOT OF THINGS, OKAY?” Marc raised his voice to be heard above the crowd and above the screeching. “Nothing’s EVER simple for me. I don’t like needing help and I don’t like being around the bird, and I don’t like telling Jake how to do his missions even when it means I wake up fucking doll-sized, and I just--I just--”
“You feel powerless.” She stabbed the thing again; the shrieks were getting duller. It tried to whip at her with one of its rapidly-less human looking arms.
Marc let out a bitter laugh as he twisted the limb away from her. “And that is insane because LOOK AT WHAT WE’RE DOING!”
The thing was nearly spent, bleeding out on the floor. The goo looked toxic; luckily both suits wicked whatever-it-was away.
Layla stabbed it a few more times for good measure. “Even if you are helpless sometimes, you know that doesn’t change anything between us.”
“How the hell could it not?” Marc held the squirming mass down. “Some days I wake up and I can’t hold you. What kind of man--”
“The kind of man who knows whether or not he can hold me doesn’t change how I feel.” She kicked the thing off her swords. “What if it wasn’t Jake? What if you were in a car accident and God forbid--”
“Yeah, I get it.” He stomped on the thing’s chest, and something inside it broke.
“Well, I’d stay with you then. And this is no different.” She sheathed her swords as the thing let out its dying breath. “I love you. I want you to be happy in your body, and if Jake’s relying on this tactic too much for your comfort you need to tell him. But you needing help doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned. Tell me you know that.”
Marc took a deep breath, ignoring the stink of the dying monster. “I’m being an idiot again, aren’t I?”
“No. You’re being human. And you’re entitled to your emotions.” She approached him and dropped to one knee. “Marc. Tell me you understand I don’t feel different about you.”
“I…” He squirmed, reaching for the words. “I do.”
“Good.” She kissed his cheek.
“Hey, if you really felt the same you’d--” He lost the rest of the words as she planted one on his lips.
“Needed to be sure you didn’t get that goo all over your face.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Now let’s go home.”
He dismissed the suit and scooped the fallen cap from the floor, just outside the ring of death; the monster was already crumbling to dust. "What the hell do I even say to him?"
"How about telling him to find another application for the spell? He could theoretically be doing anything. Invisibility, animal transformation, intangibility--"
Marc shuddered. "Maybe I'm better off if we just stick to what he knows."
"That's an option too." She took his hand as they squeezed out from under the bleachers.
It didn’t feel so weird this time.