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“ And if I should falter— would yesterday’s successes be condemned?”
‘ Well, if you believe it-‘
“ But I know so. Why haven’t you agreed if it be true?”
‘ I don’t know if anything is true. These are old stories, I haven’t been given enough evidence to agree If it is the way god— if there is a god- intended. I can not be held accountable for being curious.’
“ But you can be put to trial.”
‘ If you say so. Now, what I don’t understand-‘
“ Steven. What the hell are we watching?”
He fumbles for the remote, but before the tv could be turned off Marc takes hold of Steven with an iron fist and tosses him aside. The remote clattering across the floor in his absence.
“ Thought we weren’t hiding from each other anymore.” Marc resettles himself on the couch, cracking his neck.” What’s up with the faux religious dateline stuff? Salamat documentary re-runs not cutting it anymore?”
‘ In the wee hours of the morning- how is it possible you, let alone the lord, could see a thing?’
‘ It’s these questions that shock me, Tony. My eyes are blessed and therefore see all trouble-‘
‘ And they saw me? Did they?’
‘ They saw a sinner. Indeed.’
‘ Well, my friend. I’m afraid your lord hasn’t given you shit. Your eyes are-‘
“ Ok, ok! You can turn it off.” Steven whines, poking at Marc for a chance to take over.” Im embarrassed now…no need to let it stew.”
Marc takes a moment to think.
The shows not…bad? It’s sure as hell not good. Two phony transatlantic white guys from up town New York talking about the lord? In the middle of a busy police station? Unrealistic and almost down right laughable…but intriguing. To some degree.
“ Eh, it’s ok.” Marc turns the volume down a peg.” Not really up to hearing them talk like that for another fifteen minutes- but I kinda want to see if Tony did it.” He snuggles deeper into the couch cushions, the decorative blanket- that Steven never uses- bundled up into a ball against his chest.
“ Unless you don-“
“ No!” Steven stops himself. Marc can feel the way his alter steps back to take a deep breath, his presence fading in and out.” no…I haven’t seen this episode yet…they only come out on Tuesdays.”
Marc pauses the tv.” It’s Friday?”
“ I know! But, I didn’t have time to watch this one this week. I was busy, you were busy and Jake…I don’t really know.” Marc nods to that.” So, I was gonna watch it today.”
“ Oh.” Marc suddenly feels a little ashamed.” Do you, do you want me to go? I didn’t-“
“ No…” Steven pauses for a breath and Marc takes it in, holding still until the other man clicks beside him inside their world.” You can stay. I don’t mind.”
“ You sure?” Marc unpauses the tv, his eyes readily taking in the film.” Wouldn’t want to impose.”
“ You’re not.” Steven assures.” Let’s just watch the rest…we’ll talk after.”
Marc frowns. “ Talk about what?”
And Steven doesn’t respond.
———
Schnnip
“Jake?”
schnnip, schnnip
Steven gives an over exaggerating sigh.” Jake. What are you doing to our hair?”
“ Oh! So you’ve noticed.” Jake acknowledges Steven in the mirror with a wink, his tongue stuck out in concentration.” Hey, turn your head a little bit will you? Don’t want to mess up the look.”
Steven does what he’s told but not without a grumble. His eye twitching with every little ‘schnnip’ of the scissors.” There are easier ways to do this. Ever fancy a barber shop?”
“ Nah.” Jake gestures for Steven to turn around.” I’ve always done it this way…Why’re you getting ill about this now?”
“I’m not ill.” Steven bites back softly.” I never knew you were the one to cut our hair…I just thought that it never grew.”
Jake gives him a disheartening look.” You’re not serious.” He brushes away the stray hairs off their shoulders, leaving behind a length of curls that just barely touch their neck.” It’s always been me. Of course, your funky style isn’t-“ Steven looks down at his floral shirt with a frown.” But the hair? es mi orgullo y alegría. Muwah.”
Steven follows Jake through the flat. A disgusted look on his face when the kitchen scissors are put back into the sink makes Jake frown.” What? There a special place for them?”
“ No.” Steven sighs, feeling a little sick.” I used those to cut up my pizza yesterday…”
Jake ruffles their hair and- for once- Steven is able to appreciate the other man’s work. It’s not too drastic of a trim, maybe a bit too long up top and short at the back, but nothing Steven couldn’t live with.
Just- maybe- not using the kitchen scissors would be nice.
“ Who cuts pizza with scissors? Don’t we have an exact utensil made for cutting pizza?” Jake fumbles around in the kitchen. He’s not directly looking for the pizza cutter- of which he knows they have- but every draw ends up opened and closed by the time he’s settled and pulled out a plate.
“ And besides— I found those in the bathroom.”
Steven gags.” The bathroom? What were they doing in there? I bought those scissors for the kitchen.”
Jake shrugs and slaps a piece of Steven’s left over pizza on his plate. The mushrooms have turned a bit shrunken and slimy from their time in the fridge, but a quick pop in the microwave should fix that. “ Don’t really know— I usually put them on your desk.” He slams the microwave door shut, a small smirk on his face, and presses a few buttons.
“ You do? I always thought I was going crazy when I’d find them there.” Steven nervously scratches the back of his neck. He hesitates a few seconds when Jake throws him a hard stare, the same red finger nail scratches showing up on both their necks.” Oh, yeah. Sorry…but if you put them on the desk, I in the kitchen…does that mean…?”
Jake and Steven make direct eye contact with each other, a pregnant pause stilling the air around them.
The microwave goes off but Jake lets it beep as this new wave of information becomes understood between the two of them.
“ I…,” Jake can’t seem to find the words that would shoo away the green hue to Steven’s face. He doesn’t think trying to would solve that either, knowing him he’d say something more disgusting without even knowing.
However- even with all this unsaid chaos- Jake does know that he’s not eating that pizza. He opens the microwave and immediately tosses the pizza away without a second thought.
“ Not that hungry anyway…” Jake coughs into his hand. He walks past a nearby mirror with Steven’s horrified expression looking back at him and snaps his fingers.
“ I’ll get you another pair of those kitchen scissors.”
Jake walks off without another word.
Leaving Steven- still over coming the realization that he possibly cut his pizza with the same scissors Marc used…somewhere unthinkable- with no time to call him back.
___
“ Hello and welcome to staying awake. Solving puzzles is a-“
“ Not this shit again.” Marc pushes his way to the front just to shut off the obnoxious podcast.” Steven? What’s up buddy…Can’t keep…” A sob breaks his train of thought.” Keep…doing this.. Steven?”
Marc rolls over onto his stomach to grab the hand held mirror on their desk. Snapping it open in the dark proves to be useless until Marc switches the lamp on. The shadows he squints at quickly replaced by his reflection. Though a bit more distraught and wet.
With a mustache.
“ Jake?” Marc sets the mirror down and holds himself up on the elbows.” What’s going on? Why are you…”
“ Vuelve a dormir, imbécil.” Jake blubbers pathetically. He wipes away his tears, now able to see Marc through a less blurry view.” Why are you up?”
Marc shrugs and rests his head on the mattress.” I’m a light sleeper…heard the podcast.”
“Oh.”
A moment of silence.
“ Sorry about that.”
Marc grimaces.” Don’t worry about that, man…are you ok?”
The answer is ‘obviously not’ but Marc would rather hear Jake speak about his emotions for once instead of just assuming. The last time he assumed Jake was even remotely upset ended in a two week silent treatment. Which would have lasted longer had Steven not intervened.
Steven should really be the one talking with Jake right now. Marc’s as much of a constipated sad ass as Jake is…what advice he could give would probably only shove more shit inside.
But he can try.
“ Talk to me. What’s up?”
Jake hesitates. A few tears are still slipping down his cheeks, but the sobbing has died down to small hiccups. A clear annoyance to Jake as the alters face scrunches up in the mirror.
“ I would rather talk to Steven.” Damn it.” Why do you care?”
Marc takes offense to that but tries his best not to blow up.” I just do.” He takes a deep breath and rolls over into his back. Leaving the mirror on the bedside desk.
“ Whats got you so upset?”
Jake grunts.” Work stuff.”
Ah. Khonshu is still a thing, isn’t he? Not so much that he interferes with Marc’s daily life anymore…but enough to notice the bruises and prominent scars that weren’t there a few days ago.
It’s also Wednesday. It’s supposed to be Saturday.
Marc approaches the subject carefully.” Um…Is he, is he here?” As carefully as he could.” Right now?”
Jake doesn’t answer.
——
“ Gloves?”
“ Sì, hermano. The right pocket.”
“ Trash bag?”
“ In the left pocket.”
“ Great…Anything else?”
Jake and Steven eye each other from separate mirrors.
“ No.”
“ Nope.”
Marc smiles at their simultaneous response. He gets down on one knee- not without a groan from the creaking of his old bones- and snaps a pair of gloves on.
“ Y’know? This would be a lot better with a pair of extra hands.” Marc grimaces while picking up a severed arm and shoves it into the bag with a small gag.” Cleaning everything up is one thing- but lifting this 200 pound mother fucker into the van? Give me a break.”
Steven follows Marc methodical packing of body parts with his eyes. A small smirk stretches his lips.
“ Well, we aren’t exactly mobile— me and Jake- now are we?” Steven drawls, making Jake giggle.” Unless you would like for one of us to-“
“ No.” Marc says sharply, breaking the playful banter of the night in half.” Forget that. Let me pack.” He shoves another arm in the bag and tries his best to calculate how much more weight the bag could take.
“ Double wrap it— maybe?” Jake supplies, looking between the meaty thigh pieces and Marc’s outstretched hand.” Don’t want them failing out like a bag of groceries.”
“ Very mundane correlation.” Steven blinks blankly.” Would a head of lettuce still count as a head? In grocery terms, of course.”
Marc huffs and opens another trash bag— ignoring his alters casual conversation.
“ Does that mean the arms are sticks of celery?”
Jake makes a squeaking noise.” Celery? No— they are chicken wings. You could cut up the fingers and severe them like those chicken fries at…at-“
“ Burger King…and, fucking ew.” Steven’s disgust makes both Jake and Marc snicker. The heavy fog of night lifting a bit off their shoulders to suppress the copious amount of sweat gathering near their hairline.
“ I can’t believe you just said that.”
Jake’s mouth gaps in shock, but the ends of his lips twitch upwards.” Pardon me? You can compare a severed head to lettuce— but draw the line at chicken fries from Burger palace?”
“ Burger King! And—oh! Wait,” Marc pauses as a familiar feeling takes over his left arm. He watches patiently as his hand digs around in the duffel bag before grasping the bottle of bleach and salt packets thrusted into the opposite hand.
“ My mistake. There’s a bit more, I’ve heard salt is good at cleaning blood but- you never know.” Steven relinquishes hold of Marc’s arm and falls back into place beside Jake.”I bought bleach. Just incase.”
“ Hm.” Marc sets the cleaning supplies down and starts packing away the rest of the meat.” Didn’t remember to pack it myself- thank you, Steven.”
Marc receives an affirmative nudge at the back of his mind, and it takes everything in him not to start blushing like a kid that just got praised by their parent— parents?
“ You knuckle head— what else were we gonna do with the blood?”
Parent. And one egotistical little shit of a brother.
“ Use it as finger paint?”
Marc finishes tying the bags together before responding. “ Don’t know- dummy. Maybe that was the plan all along. Ever thought of that?”
They stand and Jake takes hold of the body long enough to hoist the bags into their van. He shuts the door with a little bit more force than necessary and then fades back into the body.
“ What— you gonna draw me a picture? Maybe a pretty little flower?”
“ I’ll show you a pretty flower.” Marc snorts.
“ That’s suspicious.”
Marc laughs. He checks the time on his watch and warns the others that their drop off time is coming soon.
He makes quick work of the mess- basically pouring bleach everywhere and using the salt packets just to humor Steven until it’s all clean.
Well, as clean as possible. They’ve got only an hour left.
Marc sprinkles one more salt packet over a pile of blood. He stands up, looks at the stain sides ways, and then nods. As if satisfied with his work.
“ Good enough…let’s get to it.” He hops in the car and- knowing how much the other likes to drive- he relinquishes the body to Jake. But not without a warning.
“ Better take good care of her— haven’t had her for even a week yet.”
Jake rolls his eyes but nods in understanding.” I promise you— if I scratch this bitch at any time between here and our ten minute drive- I’ll let you bend me over your knee and spank me.”
“ Like grandpa used to do?” Steven pipes up, looking at Jake through the rear view mirror with a smirk.
“ Yeah.” Jake says flatly.” Exactly like that old mother fucker used to do— without the brass knuckles though.” He rubs a hip out of muscle memory, shifting in his seat as the van’s engine starts.” That shit always hurt for weeks after…Got detention one time because I wouldn’t sit in my chair— thought I was just being uncooperative, but no! I had a bruise the size of Texas on my ass!”
Marc cringes at the backside of their mind.” I remember that…I think? Came home late one day and…”
“ Oh!” Steven picks up on where the conversation is going before Marc himself does and switches gears.” Speaking of— do you remember that time- in high school- when Marie Ann took us out on a date?”
“ Took you out.” Jake corrects.” And then I had to fill in when you started flopping.”
Steven bristles between Jake and Marc, making them shiver.” Well, I thought it was going quite alright…Though I do remember after that we never spoke.”
“ That was because she tricked you, Steven.” Marc holds his alter close, Jake nudging them into a private corner so he could focus on driving.
“ Remember waiting at the movie theatre?”
Steven’s unsure whether or not to answer.
“ She didn’t come, Steven.” Marc says softly.” It was a big joke and- and I guess you kind of…made the whole date up?”
“ No I didn’t.” Steven pushes out of Marc’s hold.” I didn’t…We watched that new Star Wars movie together- we held hands! We…”
Marc shakes his head solemnly.” You didn’t.” He puts a hand on Steven’s shoulder and is so delighted when the other doesn’t pull away that he hides his face in Steven’s chest.” You made it all up, buddy.”
Steven’s face remains blank.” Oh…well,” He sniffs and wipes away tears that he hadn’t noticed fall.” That’s…Thank you for telling me the truth.”
Marc looks up at his alter, a sad smile on his face that Steven tries to brighten with a smile of his own.
“ No problem, buddy.”