Chapter Text
Steven woke up with a groan. His entire body felt heavy and stiff, like it didn’t want to be moved, almost like if he had worked out a bit too long, a bit too hard. He fought against the soreness and sat up on the bed, it was more of a struggle than he wanted it to be, especially with how the muscles in his abdomen hurt and ached when he moved. The most uncomfortable feeling however was in his arms and he shook his head in annoyance.
“Bloody hell,” he mumbled as he leaned over to loosen the ankle restraint around his leg and take it off. Him and Marc still kept it on, mainly because it was a habit that wasn’t so easy to get rid off. The secondary reason was much more chaotic and confusing but he did manage to convince Marc that all those blackouts in the alps and Egypt were enough of an issue to keep the restraint.
Marc quite frankly was getting very pissed off about Stevens antics, he wanted to tell him that the restraint and the sand and the tape at the door never stopped himself from running around and doing his thing either did they? But he decided against it in the last moment. He knew the uncertainty made Steven anxious and his routine gave him some sort of control and security to hold onto, Marc wouldn’t take that away.
Marc also wouldn’t admit that the whole situation made him quite nervous as well.
However when Stevens hands reached his ankle, still slightly covered and tangled up in his bedsheets, he felt nothing but his skin and the fabric of his sweatpants. He throws the warm comforting blanket off of himself, immediately getting hit with the fresh night air from having the window wide open all night long, the summer sun not having been able to warm up the room again yet.
There’s no ankle restraint on his leg, not even his skin is that slight tint of sensitive red to imply he had worn it and it moved against his skin a bit too much due to his tossing and turning.
Steven shakes his head, wiping the frown off his face and gets up from the bed, the circle with sand wasn’t a thing anymore. Marc was determined to compromise, saying that if he wore the restraint the sand would have to go and Steven felt that it was a fair trade. However; now he wished they still waited before cleaning it up so he could see if there was a footprint. The tape at the door was still attached— sloppily but it was there.
Steven takes a deep breath and walks to the kitchen. He grabs a bowl, almond milk and some cereal before pouring it all together, cereal first, milk second. Grabbing a spoon he turns on a documentary.
“Please tell me you’re finally planning to get rid of the mess today.” Marc’s groggy voice greets him after a while, it’s deeper and heavier than usually and startles him just a bit.
“What mess you talking ‘bout mate?” Steven answered and ate another spoon of cereal. He wanted to tell Marc about his observations but he decided that this really wasn’t enough by far.
Marc would never admit it but Steven wasn’t the only one who was big on denial. If Steven told him they didn’t wear the restraint and the tape on the door had been replaced Marc would just come up with some sort of silly excuse, just like Steven had done. Sleep walking, Forgetting— Something like that.
Steven would love to do the same but he was working really hard to be more realistic, to see things for how they were; to stop lying to himself. Last time he found out the truth, it crushed him and almost (or fully) made him lose his mind. He didn’t want to go through that again. He truly didn’t mind the latest developments, he was open minded after all, however the exact way of how he found out about certain things definitely mattered.
“This mess that you call your apartment that you’re forbidding me to clean.” Marc retorts and breathes out sleepily, Steven is sure he attempted to make it a scoff at first.
It makes him grin.
“What’s so funny now?” Marc asks and he appears in the mirror Steven had placed onto the coffee table.
“Nothing. Nothing whatsoever mate” Steven answers with a grin. “I’m just… listening to you.” The smirk was by now more than evident in his voice.
“Oh fuck off Steven.” Marc rolls his eyes before pulling his hand up to rub at his left eye sleepily.
“Not a morning person are we?” Steven smirks and looks at the mirror. “You look like the grumpy eagle mate.”
Marc just groans and shakes his head. “Clean up the mess Steven.” He says and then he disappears, deciding to go for another round of sleep.
Steven spends the better part of his morning with documentaries, sweet snacks, tea, and lounging around on his couch. Occasionally he would grab a book or two and read up on a few things. He felt he deserved this type of downtime after the last two weeks he’d had— from finding out about Marc, to going on an involuntary Egypt trip, to dying being resurrected and then saving the world—- He’d done enough to grant himself some lazy time.
Eventually however he decided to listen to Marc’s wish around half past 11. He didn’t want Marc to be uncomfortable in his apartment; given he’d stay here permanently,and not run off to sleep on an uncomfortable cot in some very depressing warehouse.
He couldn’t guarantee he’d get as clean and organized as Marc’s storage room had been, but he might as well try to make his apartment comfortable for Marc as well. He also decides that he doesn’t want to keep wondering about the exact reason that has Marc so obsessively organized.
Steven makes it halfway through his books; organizing them by color, then changing it to the author, then by alphabetical order of the title, and then by size. He was struggling to choose which way was best. Then he decides to stick with ordering them after which ones he enjoys reading more, and which ones he doesn’t touch as often .Those of course; find their place at the very bottom of his shelf.
Looking at all his books He felt like he might need to buy another shelf or two
As he sits on the ground cross legged and builds three towers made of books from “not my cup of tea” to “solala” to “bloody brilliant”; he notices a small green notebook. It looked old, scratched and like the color has lost a lot of its intensity. The edges of the hardcover were all dented.One corner was a bit broken. It looks old— maybe 20 years old as far as Steven could assume.
“Well that’s bad maintenance.” He mumbles to himself and shakes his head, deciding this couldn’t be one of his books. He would never have treated a book like this. He also knew it wasn’t one of Marcs books. All of his things were still in the warehouse.
He slips off the elastic band holding the book together and he opens it. The first two pages are ripped out very close to the inner hinge, carefully; possibly to make sure the papers wouldn’t rip.
The first page, that is still attached, is blank so he turns the page.
On the next was some messy handwriting. It looked like some sort of a diary as long horizontal lines separate each entry from the other. The color of the pen that had been written with differs too—- like the person took whatever pen they could find to write down their thoughts.
The writing itself looked quick yet neat, messy yet clean, bold and yet somehow graceful. The letters were leaning; making them just a tad cursive. They weren’t big nor small, a proper medium size, not like his own writing that he’d tried to keep as small and delicate as possible. It just seemed genuine. Genuine and natural. That was all.
Steven shakes off the thought of some type of far away familiarity. His writing was small and careful, Marc’s was large and pointed. He’s never seen writing like this before. He hasn’t...
He decides to keep reading.
—————————————————————————
I miss them
——
Guess we’re in the army now, marines or whatever the fuck. Sounds like it’s got some shit to do with water so that is… i don’t fucking know what that even is, but if Marc thinks he can handle it then I’ll believe that. Gonna help him one way or another. Keep him safe.
——
Got assigned to some mission about hostages or something, not like I heard much of the… instrucción. Ended up being a trap, or maybe we were bait. Don’t fucking know. Certainly was no fun. I switched out with Marc cause he got triggered? Kids were there and yelling and crying for their mom, that might be the reason but I don’t know. Guess I’ll keep an eye on that to figure out what to keep him away from.
——
Steven hasn’t fronted for almost 3 and a half years now. Except that one time he talked to the one dumbass soldier about the queen?? Whatever, Steven is gonna think it was a dream.
We need to leave. It’s not good for Steven or for Marc. Marc gets nightmares and feels guilty. He doesn’t like hurting people. Steven basically doesn’t exist anymore. I’m scared he’ll disappear.
Im gonna get us out.
——
I miss em
——
Gena new number: +********
——
Marc does mercenary work now. Dumb. Ain’t my business tho, I’ll just keep my eyes open to see if he needs any help.
——
Steven was out again on Marc’s vacation. He had no idea what was going on really, I think he spends too much time in the headspace. He thinks the real world are dreams. I’ll put him out to the front for an hour or two when I front before handing back over to Marc.
——
Everything is fucked. Holy shit.
——
Marc almost fucking shot us and I was too fucking slow. Not again. Never again.
——
Marc is some sort of moon god helper now. He gets a cool outfit at least.
——
Marc is investing? He’s making a shit ton of money. Good to know I guess?
——
Fuck I miss em
——
Steven doesn’t front.
——
Marc met this woman, I didn’t catch her name. THE ONE WITH THE CURLY HAIR. Marc really fucking likes her. Don’t mess this up for him. Don’t mess this up. Don’t mess this up.
——
I messed that up
——
I didn’t mess that up? I like her. She smiles a lot around Marc. She makes him feel good.
——
Fuck
——
Marc married Layla, I don’t know when I last fronted. They have been working together for a while and Marc is doing missions. Layla knows that Marc is moon knight. Good for her?
I think it’s 2018 or something. Some crazy shit happened to the world. I don’t care. Marc and Steven are okay.
——
Steven is gone I can’t fucking find him. Marc is fucking freaking out because Steven is gone. Fuck. I’m fucking freaking out because Steven is gone. Marc went all apeshit about it and didn’t even notice he left. It’s okay. I can deal with everything until he’s better. Maybe he will find Steven… No. He won’t find Steven. Marc still doesn’t know about the headspace.
I’m going to look for Steven when Marc is back.
——
Steven is back.
He was gone for 8 months. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to stop it from happening again. It can’t happen again. It can’t. Fuck
——
Marc bought an apartment for Steven. Layla is working some time off the road soon, guess he wants to make sure Steven doesn’t disappear again? Good point.
Address: - - - - Apartment 502.
Steven needs a phone.
——
Wendy is dead.
——
The bird is fucking with Marc. I don’t like the way he talks to him. Marc wants to leave, he won’t let him.
——
Marc lost his grip. He can’t control Steven anymore. I need to make sure they’re both okay.
I think Marc is about to completely break down. He’s leaving Steven in control for now.
——
Marc left Layla. I don’t know how. Marc disappeared. Nothing wild. Not yet. He does that sometimes. It’s been 2 months now. It’s not too long yet. It’s not too long.
I guess his main point was the parrot threatening him because Marc doesn’t want to work for him anymore. I can take over more of his missions.
Steven has been working in that museum for a while. He’s okay. His boss is a fucking bitch.
He likes that one girl with the long curly hair. The computer guy is an idiot. I take some of his shifts, they’re pretty boring but they make him happy. I think.
——
Had to take Steven out of the body for 2 days. Didn’t really mean to but I guess Marc isn’t the only one with self destructive behavior. Good to know.
——
I miss Marc and Steven
——
The Khonshit has beef with a cult. Good to know?! Guess we need to take care of it.
——
Steven thinks he’s loosing his damn mind and he’s exhausting our body because he thinks he has a sleeping disorder. Now he doesn’t think everything is a dream anymore but he wakes up too often when he shouldn’t. He woke up today, in the alps. I was doing that mission for Marc.
All three of us were doing that damn mission for the parrot. I liked that we did that together.
I need to keep more focus on pushing Steven down.
——
His fish is fucking dead.
——
If the cult bastard gets too close to Steven again I’m killing him.
——
Steven talked to Layla on the phone, saw the parrot and heard Marc. He’s convinced he’s insane now. Awesome news.
——
Steven and Marc communicate again…
——
Egypt?
——
Gotta stay close to the front all the time now. Just to make sure.
——
I didn’t necessarily think about the fact that Steven and Marc talking means that they can just ask each other who might or might not have stabbed and killed those annoying ass Egyptian brats. At least they don’t believe each other.
Stay the fuck away.
They can’t know.
DO YOUR FUCKING JOB.
——
Fuck them. FUCK THEM.
——
The last page is just scribbles and holes in the page, he can see the pencil had been stabbed into the paper repeatedly.
Steven frowned as he looked through the rest of the book, all the other pages were empty.
“What are you doing?” He hears Marc say, and he quickly slaps the book closed; a loud banging echoing through the apartment as he breathes out with closed eyes.
“Bloody hell.” He puts a hand on his heart, ignoring the fact that he was 200% convinced that Marc had a smug smirk playing on his lips, clearly very pleased with himself.
“Seriously buddy what did you do that had you looking all congested?”
Marc smirks and Steven looks up to him, offended “Oi!” He points at Marc’s reflection, “watch yourself you plonker.” he says determinedly and gets up from the ground, ignoring Marc’s chuckle while stretching his back.
“Didn’t you read along?” He questions after a moment.
“No I didn’t feel like it’ll be interesting and I was waiting for you to get done so I can eat.” Marc nods and gestures to Steven. “Besides I need to call Layla…”
“Why now? Are you actually gonna be emotionally available and apologize to her? Or do you just want to ask her if you forgot your stupid baseball cap in Egypt?” Steven asks as he tucks the notebook into the bottom of the shelf, all the way on the left side next to the wood.
His eyes scan the floor more than they usually would. He’s used to the concept of secret hiding spots in his apartment now. He’d have to check this out a bit more later.
“Actually I want to ask her if she already signed the divorce papers…” Marc answers him and Stevens' head shoots up at a rapid pace, hitting his head on a shelf hard.
"Ow! What?!” Steven exclaims at the mirror while holding the back of his head, his face twisted in pain.
“Jesus wow… I was just kidding buddy.” Marc chuckles and Steven snorts, deciding to step back and push Marc to the front. He could deal with the pain.
“Okay ouch.” Marc rubs the back of his head and makes his way to the kitchen. “That was unfair and you know that.”
“Just making use of my newfound abilities.” Steven retorts.
“Having another person in your body is what you call an ability?”
“I was speaking of the whole quick switching and merging or whatever you call it,but if you’d like then I’d be more than happy to call you my ‘ability’.” Steven nods proudly, teasing Marc might be his new favorite thing to do.
Marc would never admit it, but he didn’t hate it as much as he pretended to either. It gave every day some sort of ease.
“You’re really such a weirdo Steven.” He just says in return and grabs two slices of bread, putting them in the toaster before starting to make a coffee. He grabbed some sausages from the fridge. Steven didn’t bother complaining about it, Marc wouldn’t listen and his own mind was somewhere else already anyways.
He looks around the apartment from his spot across from the fish tank, Gus 2.0 and Sushi; as Marc had named his fish, swimming around happily behind him. Steven couldn’t quite decide if he found the name hilariously creative, or ridiculously tasteless.
Now it was too late anyways.
He observes everything and studies the place, everything seeming normal and yet out of the ordinary. Like something was misplaced but he couldn’t tell what.