Chapter Text
Steven and Marc has been working on their differences. Yeah, they fight, they bicker, but at the end of the day, they make it work. They were a system after all.
By some miracle, Steven was able to get his job back at the museum. It was his old job though, all with a very lengthy probation period, but a job nonetheless. Marc was able to get some gigs as a private investigator, one that mostly only works at night. And instead of one, they've got two gold fishes! And most especially, no more giant dead birds ! For once, things were finally looking up for the boys.
Meanwhile, Marc finally signed the divorce papers. It was a long time coming. He and Layla parted ways but they both promised to stay in touch and stay friends. They might need each other's help in the future after all. But, Layla's really busy right now. After she took on a well-deserved extension with Taweret as her avatar, it has been harder to contact her. But, all in all, things were looking out for her too.
Understandably, things has gotten a lot quieter. And that's with two of them basically sharing the same body. It took some time getting used to, certainly an improvement, but there was something off about it all. The weird part was, instead of it being calming, or even boring, the quiet felt eerie. It felt like something should go wrong, or something was ALREADY going wrong and they just didn't know and that's their gut trying to warn them, so maybe we shoul-
"Marc!"
Steven huffed, glaring to the aquarium to see Marc's anxious expression on the glass.
"There's nothin wrong. So, stop psyching yourself out..." Steven scolded, before murmuring out, "you're starting to make me nervous too..."
"Oh, come on, Steven. You can feel it too."
Steven pursed his lips as he closed the fish food container. He would be lying if he said he didn't. There was a grumbling in his gut for a while. It was the same one he used to get whenever he would wake up and time felt like it passed him by. But now, there was no reason for that. He and Marc had a deal after all, now it wasn't just him. There was someone on his side this time. There was nothing left to be afraid of.
"We're just probably still getting used to it all, Marc. Nothing to worry about." Steven tried to comfort him but Marc's worries never wavered. He knew how he felt.
"Yeah, nothing to worry about until there is..."
"Well, isn't someone just a giant ray of sunshine in the morning?" Steven murmured under his breath as he collected his things on the table, purposely ignoring Marc's bad mood on such a good day. "Anyway, I need to go or I might miss the bus."
"Can't have you getting me fired twice, right?" Steven glanced at Marc with a judging gaze, perhaps warning Marc not to be the reason he gets laid off from work. Again. Marc only rolled his eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
It was dark; thanks to the small amount of twinkling lights near their vicinity, he could still barely make out what was happening. Although, he could see the figure of a woman in the dark sitting next to him. Although illuminated by the low lighting, her face was still blurred no matter how close she seemed to be. He tried to focus on her features, but nothing.
There was a short muffled grumble, most likely the reply to her question that he couldn't quite hear. All he could make out was her soft laugh. "You're sweet, you know that?"
"Come here, you." He felt her hands, soft and gentle as they are, caress both of his cheeks, handling his face as if he was the most precious thing in the world. And maybe, he wasn't, but at that perfect moment, he felt like he was.
Steven blinked awake as the creaking elevator abruptly reached his floor. He had to stabilize himself before walking out into the hall to his apartment, still disoriented, somehow exhausted enough to fall asleep in the short elevator ride. It was a slow day in the museum but Donna wouldn't get off his back, working him to the bone. It was good she didn't put him on inventory again. He felt tired with just that already. His body was so heavy and on top of that, there was that weird... uh, whatever that was. Goodness, he really needed a break.
Steven sighed, digging into his pocket for his keys. "Marc? Marc, are you there?"
"Yeah, right here, Steven."
"I think I'm- we're coming down with a flu or something," Steven murmured as he walked into his apartment, placing his hand on his forehead to check his own temperature. "I feel like I'm gonna fall any minute."
Well, what else could it be? He had a full 9 hours of sleep last night and Marc insisted he slept like a baby too, the quietest they've both gotten in months. And yeah, he worked his ass off today but he still got to go home early. There was no reason why he would feel as tired as he did now.
Marc grunted in agreement as he appeared on the glass of the aquarium. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel how heavy the body has gotten lately. He even eased off of his exercises to lighten the load on poor Steven. But if they were really coming down with something, that would explain it all.
"Yeah, that may be the case. We don't have the healing powers anymore after all-" the sound of a loud creak emanated through the quiet room as Steven stepped on a particular floorboard. Marc sucked in his teeth. "You have got to fix the floorboards. It's been months."
"If it bothers you so much, why don't you do it?" Steven muttered, opening the fish food to give his fishies their daily intake, purposely ignoring Marc's offended stare. "...wow, Steven."
"It's your apartment."
"Our! It's our apartment, Marc!" Steven bursted, finally looking at Marc, annoyed.
"It just can't be mine when both of our stuff is in here!" The man pointed out, emphasizing on the different files and trinkets that Marc purposely likes to leave out for easy access that Steven has been complaining about for months. All whining fell to deaf ears because Marc knows even Steven's aware that his clutter still outnumbered Marc's.
"Yeah, yeah, now give me the body, Steven. I need to meet with my client. Have to get money for our apartment, right?"
Marc just finished off with a client and was now on a bus ride home. It was just a simple 'wife needs evidence if her husband is cheating or not'. It was easy money, not much work needed. Seriously, she could've just followed him to his workplace to find her husband with his secretary. It's not rocket science, she could've saved a few thousands just by being more observant. Plus, it's not like the guy was actually doing a good job hiding it...
"You okay?" The worry in her voice was evident just by how shaky it was. He could feel the stickiness on his skin as it all stained his clothes. But all that didn't matter, all that mattered was her. He couldn't see the woman's face but her form was lightly illuminated with a faint orange tinge from a nearby streetlight.
"Oh, god. Hold on, let me help you." Her fingers was shaking as she reached for him and he could see his own hands reaching back. His form shifted, most likely this time he was leaning against her for support. There was this constant ringing in his ear, injured probably, but he could still hear her panicked breathing. And yet, that sound alone comforted him. She was there, that on its own was enough.
"It's okay. I got you. Just lean on me." He couldn't see her face from here, somehow blurred from his memory. But just from the softness of her words alone, somehow, he knew she was smiling at him. With that, he let himself be supported. He knew he was in good hands. "I got you now. Don't worry..."
"I'm here..."
"Marc, wake up! Our stop is here!" Steven's voice rang in his ears as his eyes snapped opened. Marc didn't even realize how that he fell asleep until he woke up. Before he could truly wake up, he hurried out of the bus before sitting on the bench on the stop, running a hand down his face. He groaned.
The man glanced to his right, Steven's reflection was staring back at him, worried, wordlessly asking if he was alright. He was usually always on top of his toes when fronting. Marc just waved him off. "...thanks, Steven."
With that, Marc placed his head back to his hands in an effort to fight the migraine he could feel coming. But at the very back of his head, he was wondering.... what the hell was that?... who was that?
Marc groaned again. The pain that shot through his temples were enough to empty whatever the hell he should be worrying about. Right then and there, the two wordlessly realized just how much they were pushing their body. They need to take care of themselves. They needed rest. They didn't have their healing mojo anymore.
They finally returned home, stepped on the creaky floorboards again, had an argument, took some meds, fed the fish, and went straight to bed. It was the weekend after all, they can sleep in. There was no problem with the schedule. All they had to do now was to just sleep off whatever the hell they have and hope they get better in the morning. Yup, that's how they were gonna spend their Friday night, fast asleep. Well, it wasn't like they had anything better to do after all.
"C'mon, amor!"
"Easy, Jake!" The woman laughed, following them close by as she walked closer and closer. It was the same person, no doubt about that, same figure, same voice and same blurred out features. "We have time, darling. It's all reserved just for us... no need to rush!"
"I know, I know, amor, and I'm truly thankful. It's just..." The voice of the man paused, unable to reply at beat. This was the only time the reply to her voice could actually be heard. "I just want to spend every second I have with you."
"I'm not sure how much I have..."
To that she smiled gently, as if she was used to such a bad excuse. She shook her head, coming towards them much closer, snaking her arms seemingly around their neck. As if movie magic, her face slowly came to sight, her features finally becoming more prominent to show the most precious smile they've ever seen. Her eyes were twinkling like a thousand stars and her smile was thing of wonder. Maybe it was the low lighting but, somehow, she seemed to be using the night as her own backdrop, as if the majesty of the night sky fades in comparison to the light she naturally brings. She was just absolutely breathtaking.
"And you will. Because tonight, you're all mine," she chuckled, purposely making it sound like a threat, but it all sounded like music to their ears.
"And I, yours, cariño." They see she was brought closer by a hand that seemingly belonged to the same eyes they were borrowing . Without removing their eyes from her, the person sealed their promise with a kiss on her hand, which was generously rewarded by her softened gaze . "Only yours."
Marc opened his eyes, somehow refreshed from such a dream. He found himself staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes. It was so vivid, he could almost still feel her skin on his lips. Was this what a full night of sleep can do?
The man carefully sat up, still somehow speechless and admittedly a bit confused from what he just dreamt of. It almost felt too unreal, surreal even, that he just had to... check. "...Steven?"
"Yeah, Marc?"
"Tell me you saw that dream too."
"Uh. Yeah, yeah, I did." Even Steven sounded a bit confused. And like Marc, it was less concerned and more dumbfounded.
Marc sat up on the bed, running a hand down his face, slowly waking up. "Do you know her?"
Steven thought of it for a while. He tried hard to remember that face again, trying to remember at what point could he possibly have had the pleasure of seeing that woman. But he couldn't possibly have been so lucky. "I'm not really sure..."
Marc shook his head at his alter, amused. "You gotta be sure, buddy, you meet like a hundred new faces a day. Can't you remember one pretty face? There's gotta be a reason why we're dreaming of her?"
Marc then proceeded to raise the blanket, raising an eyebrow at the sight. "And why we're dreaming of her a little too happily?"
"WHA- WHY- WHY ME?" Marc didn't even need to check his reflection to see the absolute horror that was on Steven's face. "Maybe it's YOU that saw her!... With your spy work!"
Marc chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking back to that peculiar dream he had before. Their voice matched, but he couldn't see the face the first time. Plus, he was extremely sure he has never actually seen her before. She was eye-catching. He surely wouldn't have forgotten her if he did. There was no way.
"Can't be me, bud, I won't forget such a pretty smile like that," he hummed, the woman's face still fresh in his mind, the side of his lips unconsciously quirking up before he inched out of bed. "Now, think real hard who she was, maybe I can get you a date."
Marc then made his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee to the sound of Steven absolutely berating Marc for being an ass. He's not that forgetful. He's been doing better lately and he just doesn't really know where he saw that woman. He's really sure it's not him!
Marc just let him go at it. He's got too much energy in him at so early in the morning. It's not like it's bad that Steven's thinking of a woman. In fact, he thinks it'd be great if Steven actually meets someone. The guy deserved it and Marc was all for the idea of Steven dating.
Him though, he needed more time. Marc needed to collect himself first. He didn't want to rush into anything. But that didn't mean the same for Steven, of course. He could probably get a date real quick if he really tried. He just needed to get out there.
"But wasn't she calling someone? She was looking at us... but it seemed like she was talking to something else? Maybe we just watched her on the telly or something?" Steven thought out loud, showing up on the coffee pot, the name the woman mentioned already scrubbed for their brain. "Maybe we made it up 'cause we're sick?"
Marc had to stifle a laugh at that one. "So, we go down with a flu, and then we start dreaming about going on a date with a girl both of us don't even remember? Seriously?"
"I don't know, Marc, this has never happened to me before."
Marc snorted. "Okay, okay, fine. But if we start getting them more at night, I swear, Steven-"
"Oh, piss off."
"I'm just saying, bud. You need to get out there," Marc laughed, emptying his cup. "You're never getting a date with your nose so balls deep in those books. Trust me."
"No offense, mate, I'm not gonna take any relationship advice from you, alright?" The man huffed, still as sassy as ever.
"You're hopeless, buddy," Marc sighed as he placed the empty coffee cup on the sink before stretching his body after lying down for so long, feeling a sudden sharp pain on his side spreading horribly through his body.
Marc hissed. The action made him stop quickly and take hold of his side, trying to soothe the muscle there. "Fuck, we probably slept on a bad position. How long were we out?"
"I don't know, Marc, I still feel really tired, but I feel like we've slept for too long. Maybe more than a few hours?"
Marc searched quickly for his phone, grabbing it by the window, hand reaching out to open the curtains, stopping for a second to notice that the window wasn't covered by any sort of fabric and it actually already pitch black outside. The man blinked. That would explain it.
"Yeah that sounds right, but-" he clicked his phone to check the time. Instead, his eyes caught sight of today's date, Monday.
"Two days?! No wonder we feel like shit... and-" he checked again, nodding at the screen before showing Steven. "It's two a.m."
"Really?!" Steven gaped, just now realizing that they've slept the whole 48 hours away. "Maybe- maybe, we really should start drinking some vitamins or something. At this point, I think maybe even a flu can take us out."
Marc let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
"It's not funny, Marc."
Now, that was debatable. Dying from a flu after everything they've went through sounded almost too funny. It was stupid, it was almost pathetic, but at least, these were the type of things they worry about these days. It was weirdly comforting in a way.
But that sentiment can wait because he still feels like shit. Marc proceeded to search the cupboards above him for some painkillers. It was the only thing that could help what he was feeling right now. Even food can wait.
"But, hey, don't you think there has got to be a different reas-"
Steven's voice faded away in his head when his eyes caught sight of something. Marc stopped right then and there, just staring at it, focusing on nothing but what was in front of him. He blinked, thinking it was just something in his eye but it stayed. It was right there. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as the gears in his head started to turn....son of a bitch.
"Steven..."
"Hmm, yeah?"
"...knuckles."
Steven's brows knitted at the sudden random word Marc just spat out. He has heard a lot of weird things from the American but this was one for the books. "Wha- what do you mea-"
Even then, Steven had to stop and stare at his own hands, slowly understanding what Marc meant.
Their knuckles didn't have a scratch, not even a single trace of blood or injury, but they weren't clean like they should be. Because what would someone who was in bed for days with a flu be doing with antiseptic staining their non-injured knuckles?
"Steven, are you thinking what I'm thinking?
"No... no, Marc.... this can't be possible..."
"Look, I didn't want to say it too at first but unless, you're not telling me something..."
"No! We have a deal! I won't do that to you. It's not me, Marc."
"Then, look at the signs, Steven, it's starting to makes sense," Marc breathed out, running a hand down his face, bitterly laughing at the situation as it all came crashing down.
"All those times we blacked out without any of us on the wheel. Memories both of us don't remember. It's because there's someone else. There's just no other- tsk." He gritted his teeth.
"Are you saying-?"
He looked at the mirror, seeing Steven's horrified expression as the reality finally set in. "Looks like we have another roommate, Steven."
"Oh, bloody hell." Steven stormed off, placing both hands on his face as if not seeing it all would change anything. He was still in denial of it all, maybe bargaining. But not Marc, Marc already skipped all that.
"Hell is right," Marc bitterly chuckled to himself, grinding his teeth together. Of course, of fucking course.
"Fucking-" Marc slammed his fist on the table. He kicked it away, making the table skid across the floor. It took everything in Marc not to start thrashing the place.
"Okay, Marc, let's just chill out for a second, yeah-?" Steven tried to comfort him. He was upset himself but he knew Marc was barely holding himself back. In fact, Steven thinks Marc can't hear him right now as Steven watched him go straight for the bathroom, opening the mirror.
He slammed his hands down the sink, body almost shaking in anger. He raised his head to his reflection. "Alright, whoever the hell you are, talk."
Silence. The only thing that could be heard was his breathing and the water droplets from a distance. Steven fiddled with his fingers, getting more and more anxious as every second passed by. Even more so when Marc chuckled.
"We know you're in here, the jig is up," Marc muttered under his breath, the clear poison lacing his tone before slamming his hand on the glass, shattering it to shards, his reflection increasing by tenfold. "Better show yourself right fucking now!"
Marc waited for a hot minute, even Steven paused for another voice to come in. But all they got was silence. So instead of calming down, it just irritated Marc even more.
"Not talking, huh?" He chuckled again, feeling his anger rise from each moment of silence. He counted another minute before he just stepped back from the mirror. "Fine, have it your way."
With that, Marc walked out of the bathroom and went straight for the front door. Steven could barely keep up. "Woah, Marc, where are you going? We can't leave, we're still sick! We haven't even checked our temp-"
"We're not even warm, Steven! We don't have a flu, it's probably him," Marc said, staring straight at his front, positively seething. "He's probably been off doing fuck-knows-what. Trying to make us go out of commission so he can do whatever the fuck he wants."
He stopped, glancing to the mirror, seeing Steven's panicked face, but even Steven knew Marc was glaring at something else. Marc was talking to the him. "Well, I'm not fucking having it."
Marc was going straight for the door when a particular step caused his foot to slip right through the floorboards, sending a loud creak to rip through the quiet apartment. "Oh, are you fucking-!"
"Stupid fucking apartment! What is with this-!" Marc suddenly stops, huffing in a breath once his mind had the chance to think. He moved his trapped foot a bit to the right, tensing up the moment he felt something.
"Ew. Ew. Ah! Our foot is touching something!!"
For a moment, Marc's anger subsided as he let his gaze fall to his feet with a calculating gaze. Because if the floorboards actually gave out, there was no reason for the particular tile to be fully intact and just slanted off to the side. It would only turn out like that if... if it was done on purpose.
"Steven, do you normally hide things under the floor?"
"No..." Steven trailed, unsure of where this was going but a bit relieved Marc didn't seem as angry anymore. "That's more of your thing, innit?"
"I never did it on the floor."
Marc sat down on the ground, keeping his foot exactly where it was. With unsure hands, he took the wood tile to the side, leaning in closer to reach for the hidden item near their feet.
His fingers came across a flat surface... corners... Huh. That's a ... huh.
"It's... a box? What's a box doing in there?"
Marc didn't even need to answer that. They were gonna find out.
And without another word, they took out the box and placed it on the table. For a second they hesitated opening it. After all, maybe it was something the previous owner stored and forgot. It wouldn't be right for them to open something that wasn't theirs... but then again, it was their apartment now. They had a right to know whatever it was.
Marc took hold of the crooked lid, glancing at Steven once to see that he held the same morbid curiosity of the box's contents, anxious to see what was inside just like Marc was. They shared a quick look before wordlessly deciding to go through with it. And with that, they didn't know what they signed up for.
The first thing they saw was a small handkerchief. It was light-colored with careful embroidery. The design was simple and it all seemed like the type a woman would own. There was no dust but it felt like it had been there for while. Marc hummed as he flipped it over. "I reckon this isn't yours or from some girl you know, Steven?"
"Not a chance, mate," Steven answered, morbidly curious himself to know whose this box was.
With that answer, Marc flipped the ordinary looking handkerchief open and heard Steven gasp in his head. He knew exactly what old dried blood looked like on fabric and that was it. In its defense, the sight wasn't too much of a crime scene. There wasn't a lot after all. It seemed like this person barely held the handkerchief and tried to fold it the other way to cover the tracks he made.
That was already enough for Steven to stop exploring the rest of the box just because of the sheer amount of serial killer vibes he was getting from it, but this was barely anything for Marc to stop. He had to see it to the end. Plus, he doesn't think that the hanky would be the worse of it since the variety of it all was the real mystery.
Small withered flowers that seemed to be once connected to form a crown. Different types of empty candy wrappers that were carefully flattened neatly. A couple of used bandages that were carefully rolled up to a ball, being hold in place by bandaids with childish superhero logos printed on them. Yeah, this certainly did not belong to them.
And if that wasn't bad enough. At the back of it all, there were pictures, Polaroids to be exact, only a few. He turned it over and Marc's heart fell to his stomach. It was her. The same woman in their dream. If the picture had a sound, he'd bet she'd sound just the same.
They were simple pictures, but incredibly intimate. An image of her sitting calmly and comfortably on a bed while reading a book, her body seemingly only covered by a duvet. Another picture of her on what seemed to be a boat, wearing a sundress and a straw hat, smiling like a dream as the sun sets behind her. Then, another one with her on focus, a soft smile decorated her lips as the backdrop of the blank sky made her shine like a star.
Finally, a long, slender photo at the bottom, probably from a photo booth, with four pictures in succession. They should've held their breath because once they haphazardly turned it over, nothing could've readied them.
It was them, in the flesh, with her. She had her arm around his, smiling like an angel as he had a deadpan expression, wearing some cabbie hat. On the next, they both had a feather shoal on their shoulders, the woman winking at a camera with a wide grin while that alter was looking softly at her. On the third picture, he was pressing his lips on her cheek. Marc and Steven could almost hear the woman's giggle from the photograph.
And on the last photo, they shared a kiss, her arms placed comfortably around his neck and his hand supporting the small of her back, intimate and passionate, living in their own little world.
The boys were left in pure shock. No wonder they were dreaming about her. They knew her... Or better yet, he did.