Work Text:
The things she had to do for her job.
That had got to be the most boring party Layla had ever been to. Or maybe not, those didn’t tend to stick to her memory.
Still, it was so boring, that as soon as she noticed people acting oddly, she gravitated towards it like a moth to a flame.
Her eyes widened when she saw a man getting dragged out of the pool by another one. How would someone drown in a pool that shallow? He looked tall enough he could probably stand on it. Maybe he was drunk.
“Anyone know how to do CPR?” the man who had dragged the other one out asked loudly.
“Me, I can do it.” she promptly offered, and ignored the looks that got her from the other men around. She just pushed the man out of the way since he looked like he wanted to protest. Then she pulled the drowning man’s shirt open so she could see what she was doing as she started CPR.
He was conscious again very fast, panicked, and he grabbed her arm and looked at her with terror that made her freeze for a moment. The other man who had saved him seemed to want to pull him away from her, but for some reason he stopped himself and nobody interfered when the man who looked like a foreigner turned on his side and curled around her, coughing and wheezing.
“It’s okay. You’re alive.” she rubbed his arm when she realized he was crying. “How about we get you somewhere more comfortable?” she looked up and shot a pointed look to the far stronger men around them.
They took the cue and hauled him up, and it was as Layla was standing up too that she saw it.
There was a soulmate mark on his chest, right over his heart. She quickly looked down at her arm, which he had grabbed, and the matching soul mark was there too, where there had been nothing before.
Her heart jumped to her throat, and she quickly hurried after the men as they dragged him into the house.
-------
Marc groaned when he woke up. He hated hangovers.
He snuggled into the sheets willing his head to stop pounding. But as time passed, he realized he couldn’t smell or taste alcohol at all. He couldn’t remember anything about how he had gotten to bed.
He sat up and looked warily about. He didn’t know where he was at first, it took a very long moment for him to remember that he was in a hotel room. He had been trying to track Abdallah El-Faouly’s daughter, so he could apologise to her.
He sighed and fell back down on the bed. He was supposed to be looking for her in a stupid party. Clearly he had blacked out and missed the opportunity. Maybe he should just go back to London and give up on that. He already had tried talking to her thrice, and something happened to stop him each time. At this point, it must be a sign.
His phone started vibrating and he reached for it, but it was just a message and not a call. Layla El-Faouly... He didn’t have that contact before. His heart sunk.
He opened the contact and saw a few messages asking him how he was feeling, and if they could meet each other. Before he could type a reply, the phone rang.
He swallowed, took a deep breath, then took the call. “Hello?”
“Marc? You said you’d call me in the morning, it’s almost five in the afternoon. Are you okay?” he grimaced.
Somehow he had met her, she already knew his name, and he had no idea how it had all gone down. Had he told her about her father? Was that why he couldn’t remember it?
He really didn’t want to remember it.
“I’m sorry. Just... Not feeling very good. You wanted to chat?” he asked her hoarsely.
“Do you need me to take you to a hospital?” she was concerned, and he was surprised. Why was she even talking to him still? Why was she worried about him?
“What? No. I’ll be fine.” he stretched and sighed. “I was just tired, I’m sorry.”
“Alright. Yeah, that’s fair. Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he was taken aback by the offer, specially in such a soft voice. For a moment, he had no idea what to say. “So we can talk about our soul marks?”
“Soul marks?” he asked her, baffled. He looked at his arms and hands quickly, since those were the places where people usually got theirs when they did at all, but there was nothing there.
“Yeah. You know, we are soulmates, and I’d like to talk to you about what that means to me, and to us.” he fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “So? Dinner?”
“Dinner, yeah, sure.” he agreed quickly.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up at seven, does that work for you?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be waiting.” he agreed in a hurry, internally panicking.
He was not prepared for this. Was that the reason she was still talking with him and not trying to kill him after he told her about her father? Had she slapped him, was his soul mark on his face now? Had she shoved him?
He grimaced when he looked at his chest and saw the mark there. Yeah. At least it wasn’t his face, that would have been awkward to explain in London. Everyone’s first assumption would be that she had slapped him first thing ever, and he wouldn’t even be able to deny it.
“I’ll see you then. I have to go, bye.” she said. He quietly said bye, and she hung up.
Marc turned around and buried his face on the pillows. Once he was sure his voice would be muffled, he screamed.
-------
Steven’s days were a haze lately. He kept waking up in weird places without remembering how he got there, and most of the time he felt like his head was in a fog and he didn’t know what he was doing.
So, he probably should cut himself some slack for not seeing it before. But still, he was baffled as he looked at himself into the mirror that morning and saw the mark on his chest.
A soul mark. On his chest. He had never noticed it before.
How on Earth had his soulmate touched his naked chest and he hadn’t noticed it?
“I’m going mad, that’s what it is.” he breathed out, tracing the mark as he saw it through the mirror. He felt nothing different about the texture of the skin. The mark didn’t feel any different at all in any way. He looked down, and the mark was still there.
“Am I seeing things? When people see things, it doesn’t appear in cameras, right?” he had heard that somewhere before. He rushed back into his bedroom and grabbed his cellphone, then took several pictures and a video of it. “It’s real.” he gaped.
He really had been touched by his soulmate. But when? Nobody had touched him in forever. Was it on the bus? But he always wore at least a shirt and undershirt over his chest, most of the times more than two layers, he didn’t remember going out shirtless to get the bus.
Had he gone out naked one of the days he couldn’t remember? He felt his face heat up at the mere thought. No wonder his neighbours thought he was weird.
“Oh no. Has my soulmate seen me run around naked on the street? Is that why she disappeared and never contacted me again?” he groaned and sat down on the bed, feeling disheartened.
‘You have some wild ideas sometimes.’ even his own inner thoughts were laughing at him. He was mortified.
But mostly very sad.
“Of course she would leave me, I’m a walking red flag.” he groaned to himself.
‘Soulmates are overrated.’ his inner voice tried to cheer him up, but it was very unconvincing.
He was still sad, embarrassed, and he wished he could at least remember the day his soulmate had first touched him, so he could at least tell why she had decided to pretend that had never happened. He didn’t even know what she looked like, what she sounded like.
Maybe it was for the best that he had forgotten, so he wouldn’t spend the rest of his days reliving what was probably an extremely embarrassing day. He had a tendency to overthink those.
‘Just forget the mark. Go take your shower.’ his inner voice told him, and he sighed and took the advice. It was the smartest thing to do.
Just pretend it never happened. Maybe he could get some makeup to hide it.
-------
If only that was the last weird thing that happened to him. Things seemed to get weirder as the weeks passed. He’d wake up sitting on benches, or passed out next to his door. He tried tying his foot to the bed and taping the door. That seemed to help some, but still he had the weirdest dreams.
Then there was that day he woke up in the middle of the Alps. He still couldn’t tell if that had been a dream or not, at least until the people in the dream came chasing after him. Then he got nearly killed. Then he got fired. Things were just getting worse and worse.
Now he was either possessed, or mad, or both, and being chased by a skeleton spirit that for sure wanted him dead. He ran away screaming, and almost got run over by someone.
“Marc!” he looked up startled at the voice. His eyes widened. It was the voice he heard when he accepted the call from the weird phone.
“Layla?” he gasped.
“Oh, my god. What are you doing? Why do you have this tendency to almost die every time I find you again?” she complained reaching down for his hand. He grabbed it and tried to get to his feet without relying too much on her, but she practically hauled him up.
Their hands were sparkling. His eyes widened as he watched it, but he had no idea if he was seeing things again or not, and she didn’t react to it at all. He was probably seeing things. “Hum, yeah.”
“What are you running from? Get on the back.” she ordered him, and he quickly nodded, then sat down behind her as she turned on the ignition and they sped off.
“What is happening, Marc? I was worried you were dead, or hurt. But the mark didn’t disappear, so I just thought, ‘He has the suit, he’s okay’. ‘The mark would fade if he was dead’.” she went on after a while.
Steven’s eyes widened. “W-What mark?” he stuttered, his heart pounding on his chest.
“What do you mean, what mark? Our soul mark, of course!” she exclaimed. He nearly fell off the bike, but clung to her on reflex. This time he could feel electricity running through their skin as they touched, even through clothing.
“I-I’m... You’re my soulmate?” he asked, shocked. So, he wasn’t imagining things?
“Stop that! Stop with this accent. I was worried sick about you, now is no time for you to play pretend. There’s nobody here to hide from, either!” she was very annoyed.
“This is how I talk.” he stuttered, completely out of his depth. He squeaked when she ground to a halt and he was pressed against her.
“Alright, get off the bike.” she told him, clearly put upon.
“No. Just take me home, please. We can talk there? Over tea?” he pleaded in a rush. She looked at him through the mirror and heaved a sigh.
“Alright, fine. Give me directions.” she told him.
He licked his lips. “I don’t know how to drive. I don’t know what street we’re in.”
“Just give me the address.” she snapped, annoyed. He quickly recited it by heart, and she took off again.
---------
Steven tried not to think too much until they arrived home, and thankfully Layla was quiet the rest of the way.
He nervously opened the door and walked in, and once they were inside and his door was locked, he turned to look at her. “So, you’re my soulmate?” he reached up towards his chest.
He really wished he could show her his mark, but it wasn’t exactly in an appropriate place. She shot him a Look.
“This is serious, Marc. We’re alone now. This is your safe space. Just drop the act.” she insisted.
“It’s not an act!” he huffed. “How did I even...” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “Do you know where my soul mark is? You’re not trying to scam me, are you?” he was slightly suspicious. He had heard about such scams before, and he had always been a tad gullible.
Layla narrowed her eyes at him. He backed away with a squeak when she strode up to him, then felt his face heat up when she pulled his shirt open. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt, his mark was very visible.
“I know you’re Marc. Drop the act.” she warned him.
He just spluttered and ended up choking and embarrassing himself even more as he backed away from her coughing. She just crossed her arms and glared at him.
“I’m... I’m not. I’m not Marc.” he insisted. “Listen...”
‘She’s our soulmate, Steven.’ Steven startled and turned to the mirror next to him as soon as he heard the voice inside his head. The man in the mirror was there, glaring at him.
“How did you get a soul mark on my chest of all places?” he asked the reflection, befuddled, realizing that must have been what happened. If he didn’t remember it happened, it must have been Marc in control, right?
‘I have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine.’ Marc shrugged from the mirror. Steven was just floored. How does one forget something like that?
It hadn’t been Marc, then?
Layla was watching him with a suspicious and worried look on her face. “It’s because I did CPR on you when we first met. You almost drowned. Don’t you remember?” she asked him carefully.
Steven stuttered. “N-No. I don’t remember.” Marc didn’t either, by the look on his face. “Oh, you saved my life twice, then! Thank you.” he offered her a wavering smile.
‘Many times.’ Marc corrected him.
“What is happening? Did you forget everything? You’re not joking, are you? I swear to god, Marc, if this is a prank...” she huffed, but she did look very worried.
“It’s not a prank. It’s not!” he told her quickly, lifting up his hands. “And my name is Steven!”
‘Give me the body, Steven.’ Marc sighed. ‘Let me talk to her.’
“Last time I gave you the body, you got me fired. Are you going to get me dumped now?” he snapped towards the mirror. Marc rolled his eyes at him.
“Who are you talking to?” Layla asked him slowly. He turned to her quickly, feeling his face burning again.
“I-It’s... Nothing really.” he stuttered.
‘Give me the body.’ Marc told him again. He felt a rush run through this body, and this time, it was like he couldn’t really help it. He wanted to be far away from that situation, and Marc really wanted to be in it.
So they swapped places.
Marc blinked quickly as he watched Layla, then he winced.
She was watching him with worry. “What was that? Are you okay?”
“Layla...” he sighed, then ran a hand down his face. “Listen, I can explain.”
“Oh, so you changed your accent, now?” she gave him a long look. “Not Steven any more?”
“No. No, I’m not Steven. Listen, this is a long story.” he tensed when someone started pounding on his door.
“Steven Grant?” he quickly lifted his finger to his lips that told Layla to be quiet. She was instantly alert, and both of them looked at the door in silence.
He carefully moved until he was standing between Layla and the door, and they were both watching it. He was unsurprised when whoever it was started trying to kick it in, and he quickly put on Khonshu’s suit.
He didn’t wait until they walked in. As soon as the door was kicked open, he strode out and took the two people down. Marc didn’t even break a sweat. Layla was standing there, watching.
“What did you do, Marc? What’s happening? Why were you disguised, and why are cops chasing you?” she frowned as she picked up the badge.
Marc frowned too. “Cops wouldn’t try to kick down my door.” he told her, then grabbed the man by his arm and pulled his sleeve back. There, plain to see, was something that looked very much like a soul mark, but he knew it wasn’t.
“What is that?” Layla asked him hesitantly, realizing there was more to it by the way he looked at her.
“They’re Ammit’s followers. They have been following Steven. We have to get out of here, this isn’t safe any more.” he rushed past her into the room.
“They’ve been following you.” she corrected him.
“No, Steven was the one stupid enough to give them his name and where he worked.” he huffed.
‘Hey! I wouldn’t have been in that situation if you hadn’t dropped me in it and then just pissed off!’ Steven had a point, Marc had to concede. He grabbed some clothes and shoved them in a bag, saying nothing to him. ‘What are you doing?’ Steven protested.
“Do you want to stay here and get killed?” he snapped back at him.
Marc startled when Layla grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around. “I’ve seen you talking to yourself before, but you’re worrying me now. What’s wrong?” she hesitated. “Are you doing alright?”
Marc flinched. “I’ll explain later. Help me pack.” he shoved some clothes on her arms to distract her.
‘I need some explanations too.’ Steven demanded. ‘What you were saying about Khonshu, was that true?’
“It’s all true.” Marc groaned. “Shut up, let me focus.”
‘You’re not telling me to shut up now, you tosser. First you get me fired, now it’s your fault my door is broken, there are unconscious police on my doorstep, and my soulmate thinks I’m mad.’ Steven argued. Marc only gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing Steven to just shut up. Steven sulked in silence once he stopped ranting.
“Let’s get out of here.” he told Layla, grabbing the little they needed and leaving the house. She hurried after him.
--------
Half an hour later, they were hiding in a hotel room, using one of Layla’s fake IDs. He threw himself on the bed and sighed as soon as the door was locked behind them.
“Alright, explain to me what’s going on, then?” he looked up. Layla was standing next to the bed with her arms crossed.
He licked his lips. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Why were you insisting you were Steven before when I asked you not to, and then just stopped? Were you being eavesdropped on? What is happening?” she frowned and sat down next to him. Marc sighed and reached out to her, and relaxed when she took his hand and held it.
“It’s very complicated.” he told her slowly.
“Good thing we have time.” she squeezed his hand. “They’re not going to find you here, it’s your plan.”
He sighed and rubbed his neck. “Steven is not a disguise. And he’s very annoyed with me right now.” he started very slowly. He glanced at her, and grimaced when he saw her frown. “He’s... He’s just Steven. We share a body.” he said carefully.
“What’s this? Is this another one of your kinks? You like to role play, to pretend you’re someone else...” she said slowly. Marc’s eyes widened.
“No! No, it’s not a kink.” he sputtered. He quickly sat up, staring at her. She had never talked with Steven before. “What do you mean by that? Who have I pretended to be before?” Layla shot him a withering look. “Please, baby, this is important.”
Layla huffed. “You know what I’m talking about. You pretend to be Jake all the time, when you want to hype yourself up, right? When you’re feeling more daring...”
“Oh, god.” Marc looked away, absolutely mortified. “I have no idea who Jake is, I thought... I don’t know what I thought.” he choked.
‘You know how I feel now.’ Steven chimed in, and Marc wrinkled his nose.
“Listen, Layla, Steven and... Jake. They’re not disguises. They’re other people inside my head. Steven doesn’t remember me, or you... and apparently I don’t remember Jake.” he narrowed his eyes as he explained it to her.
She blinked. “Is that why you, Marc, kept denying to my face that you were still talking with your parents? You were always Jake when you did it.” she asked slowly. Marc reeled away from her, shocked.
“Jake was talking with...?” he choked, but then realized Steven was right there, listening to everything they said. “Never mind that, let’s not talk about it.” he said quickly. He could feel Steven’s confusion, but thankfully he let it drop.
Layla pursed her lips. “But you don’t remember what Jake did? Nothing at all?” she asked again.
“N-No.” he stuttered. “I didn’t even know... I thought you just talked with me before, because I know for a fact you’ve never talked with Steven.”
“No.” she slowly shook her head. “There was Jake, there was Matt, and there was those times you pretended to be V and acted like a little kid.” she said hesitantly. Marc buried his face on his hands. “You don’t remember any of that?”
“No.” he choked. “You thought it was a kink?” he looked up at her in horror.
“Jake told me it was.” Layla told him slowly. Marc really wanted to punch this Jake, whoever it was. “So, what is it, then?”
“It’s...” he licked his lips. Maybe Jake had the right idea. Maybe it was better if she thought it was a kink, he suddenly realized.
‘What is it?’ Steven insisted, as anxious to hear the answer as Layla looked.
“It’s... a mental disorder. We’re different states of consciousness with different access to our memories. We don’t always remember what each other has done, even though we can remember sometimes.” Marc explained slowly.
Layla was taken aback. “A mental disorder? What is it called? Since when have you known about this?”
“It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder. I knew before we met, but I thought...” he hesitated. “I thought it was gone. Steven seemed to be always asleep, and I never noticed anything else going on, or anyone else doing anything.” he explained carefully.
Layla studied him with a frown.
‘I was gone?’ Steven was horrified.
“Sorry, buddy.” that was all that Marc could tell him, really. He knew this wasn’t the best way for him to explain to Steven what was going on, but he didn’t know any other way.
‘Let me out!’ Steven protested, and Marc was surprised when almost instantly control was pried away from him.
Steven recoiled with a gasp, and he felt his heart start pounding on his chest.
“Marc?” Layla asked him with worry, letting go of his hand when he pulled it back.
“No. No, I’m Steven.” he choked out. “This is a dream, isn’t it?”
‘It’s not a dream, Steven.’ Marc was concerned.
“Of course it’s a dream. Otherwise I’m going mad.” he laughed nervously.
‘Give me control, you’re panicking.’ Marc tried to sound calm.
“Shut up! All you’ve done this week is ruin my life, I’m...” Steven snapped, but he was interrupted by Layla reaching over and touching his shoulders.
“Hey, hey! It’s alright. It’s going to be okay, Steven. We’ll figure out what’s going on together and get your apartment back, alright?” she said in a soothing voice.
Steven felt himself calm down a little, and when she hesitantly pulled him towards her, he leaned into her hug and tried to relax as she gently rubbed his arm.
“It’s going to be alright, hm? You don’t remember anything about me? About how we met?” she asked gently.
“No. Nothing.” he mumbled. He reached out to touch her hand and marvelled when he saw the sparkles that he traced over her skin as he ran his fingers down her wrist, as if he was leaving behind trails of glitter that slowly faded away. “You really are my soulmate.”
“I really am your soulmate.” she agreed with a small chuckle, then ran her thumb more firmly over the back of his hand. The mark she left was a lot more visible, and he watched it until it faded away.
“So you don’t hate me? You didn’t run away after you saw the mark?” he suddenly realized his initial fears might be incorrect.
“Of course I don’t hate you. I was worried sick that you were gone.” she huffed. “Marc still hasn’t explained to me why he disappeared.”
‘Same reason why I can’t tell her now. You’re always in control nowadays.’ Marc huffed.
“You didn’t have any trouble dragging our body into the bloody Alps.” Steven snapped, annoyed.
‘Didn’t I? Weren’t you complaining that you got control from me in there and didn’t know what was going on?’ Marc retorted. Steven had to begrudgingly concede the point.
“Was that meant for him?” she asked him, and Steven backed away and smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry. Yeah. He said he couldn’t tell you because I’m the one in control, and he can’t take it over from me.” he grimaced. “Does that mean I can only live my life if you’re not living yours?”
Marc’s absolute silence was very telling. Steven didn’t like it.
Layla was the one who responded. “No, of course not. Jake and Marc share the time just fine. As long as you know where we live, and what we’re doing, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time yourself.” she offered him with a smile.
Steven frowned. That sounded good, but... “I barely have any time left for myself after work, and I have to share it with other people inside my head now?” that sounded awful.
‘You don’t need to work in the museum. We get a lot of money with my work, working jobs about once a month.’ Marc sighed. ‘It’s fine. It’s not like I enjoy being bored out of my mind half the week. You’ll have plenty of time for yourself, more than you used to with the museum job.’
Steven felt pacified. But then he felt guilty. “But it’s your time, I mean...”
‘I enjoy it too when you take a break. Maybe that’s why it’s you all the time lately, I’m just too stressed out. I need you to take a break.’ he could somehow tell Marc was exhausted as he said that.
“Does that make you feel better?” he looked up startled, Layla was smiling at him.
“Ah, yes. But... If we’re being chased, it’s probably better if we don’t go back where we lived, right?” Steven pointed out hesitantly.
Layla frowned and nodded. “Can Marc explain what’s going on?” she asked gently, nowhere as demanding as she had been before. He could feel Marc frustrated and anxious almost as soon as she asked.
‘Tell her about Ammit’s scarab.’ he said finally.
“Alright.” Steven agreed carefully. “There’s this golden scarab thing...” he began.
“The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti?” she instantly asked, alert.
“Yes,” he agreed, nodding.
‘Tell her Harrow is after it, and he’s willing to kill us for it. So I took it away.’ Marc explained quickly. Steven relied it to her in a hurry, realizing what Marc had realized, that she seemed to be getting angry.
She pressed her lips and covered her eyes with her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Marc? Instead of trying to run away and doing all of this without any help?”
“I guess he was trying to protect you.” Steven told her without waiting for Marc’s response. He felt Marc’s annoyance as soon as Layla glared at him.
But she shook her head. “Alright, fine. How about...? This has been the longest day. How about we just order something to eat, and then just try to get some sleep? Hm?” she offered.
Steven relaxed, and he could feel Marc’s relief too. “Sounds good to me!” he agreed. “I’m vegan.” he said almost on reflex, before realizing that it was silly to tell her that if they used to live together.
‘I’m not vegan.’ Marc told him, amused, at the same time as Layla.
“Marc’s not vegan. Jake really likes barbecue.” she was surprised. He could feel Marc’s instant negative reaction to that, and Steven wholeheartedly agreed with him. “I guess that explains why Marc really doesn’t like it, I thought him eating it was some kind of temporary pleasure over self inflicted pain, or something.” Steven squeaked and felt his face burn, and Marc was internally facepalming at that. “I’ll get us vegan Indian food, how does that sound?”
“It sounds great.” he agreed with a nod.