#Moonknightfanfic

[lovely-necromancy]

The Moon and The Stars Ch.1

Not enough Moon Knight fanfic out here especially anything domestic so I wrote one.

Relationship: Marc Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader, Jake Lockley/Reader

Summary: It's funny to think that people are so quick to dismiss the existence of magic and witchcraft despite proof of literal gods having been on Earth and fighting in favor of it before.

Didn't matter that the surviving Asgardians were sheltered on a small coast near New Zealand, didn't even matter that aliens existed. No, the thought that magic was actually real was just too far fetched. Your cards no more than a mere party trick. It was hard not to roll your eyes at the ideal – had magic not been real you wouldn't be here right now. Across the pond all the way in London, chasing down a not yet friendly face to help you locate your misplaced son, who has come from some time in the future, only having less than basic and more than cryptic information sent to you from your future self leaving you to relay a little too heavily on the cards to guide you through this predicament.

Love strikes when you least expect it, really it hits when you’re distracted. Now you’re juggling building a home with a man you’ve just met and a son you’ve yet to have.

Sitting on the bus in the early hours of the morning wasn't something you'd experienced for nearly a decade sense moving from your home town right after graduation. Moving to Manhattan everything had been so close together you pretty much walked to where you needed to go, only ever riding the bus or using the metro when you'd gone out grocery shopping or out with friends. But nothing this early, or this long. Though that isn't really saying much because you don't have a life outside of work given you're still trying to regroup after the snap. Loosing five years hadn't been fun, coming back to a world in more turmoil than when you'd left even less so.

Many had at least come home to familiar faces, but you had ended up loosing more than you saw. Closing your eyes you focus on the loud hum of the motor as the bus speeds through the street. This last minute trip had gotten your nerves fried as it was, no need to upset yourself further by thinking of the colossal shit show that happened on Titan and the subsequent bullshit that followed. All the pain and mourning – all the despair and fear; you breathe out through your mouth cutting off any further thought. You had so many thoughts and feelings about this, and no matter how many times you processed them they were still loud and aggressive. Today was not the day to deal with it though.

As a distraction you look on out at the unfamiliar scenery speeding by, you try to relax and focus on the present situation.

Currently you are on a bus in London, having just gotten on at the airport you still have your carry on pack with you. It was all you took, you needed to travel light for this excursion. Maybe you packed too light now that you thought on it; only two outfits, your chargers, tarot deck, and a few things for a make shift altar. There wasn't any indication on how long you'd be staying but you figured by the end of the week at latest you'd be back home.

Taking out the deck from your bag you remain hyper vigilant of the road even with the sparse traffic. A habit you never broke out of growing up.

While keeping your eyes on the street you began to shuffle your deck. It was an idle stim developed from years of repetition – if the cards had something to say they'd find a way to let you know. And it's something you were counting on as the sun rose above the skyline and more and more passengers got on the bus and on about their mundane days.

It's funny to think that people are so quick to dismiss the existence of magic and witchcraft despite proof of literal gods having been on Earth and fighting in favor of it before. Hell, New York has specific signs in case of Thor damage, even though the ex-avenger isn't Earth bound anymore many stayed up as a reminder in case he ever sought to visit.

Didn't matter that the surviving Asgardians were sheltered on a small coast near New Zealand, didn't even matter that aliens existed. No, the thought that magic was actually real was just too far fetched. Your cards no more than a mere party trick. It was hard not to roll your eyes at the ideal – had magic not been real you wouldn't be here right now. Across the pond all the way in London, chasing down a not yet friendly face to help you locate your misplaced son, who has come from some time in the future, only having less than basic and more than cryptic information sent to you from your future self leaving you to relay a little too heavily on the cards to guide you through this predicament.

Passengers cycle through as the drive continues, no one ever paying you any mind as you shuffle the deck of cards in your hands. Not even the bus driver who remembers you getting on at their earliest stop but can't place if you'd gotten off yet.

Still you wait.

And it'll be a few more stops before anticipation starts to itch under your skin, your stomach is in knots and you're ready to jump off at the next stop.

The Magician jumps from the deck.

Looks like the next stop is yours. Sure you're willing to admit you may have influenced the cards on that one with your restless energy but anything to get out in the open and stretch your legs again.

Stepping from the bustling sidewalk and backing yourself into an alley you look around at everything near you trying to get your intuition to guide you. A heavy worn sigh leaves you as nothing in particular seems to spark the urge to follow after. You've followed the clues well enough so far but they weren't the greatest to begin with it took a whole hour to decipher you needed to be in London. Unsure if the distorted information was a drawback of time line details or your own future hubris, you pack the cards away and switch out some cash to pick up lunch.

The only thing calling out is the sandwich cart by the fountain and your stomach is answering that call.

At least one thing was in your favor, the cart had a veggie humus wrap that was to die for. If you  did end up staying longer than a day you'd have to remember to come back to the stand. Maybe you should get another for later, the vegetables seemed really fresh and it was delicious. It'd make a good offering for later, you didn't really bring a peace offering and hadn't had much chance to look anything up online. Pairing it with a nice wine might be a smart move, wine was normally pretty well received from what you gathered. Hopefully it would suffice, you really are just flying by the seat of your pants here.

The stand attendant gives you a look once you find yourself back at his counter. Ordering another veggie wrap you ask, “Hey, I'm actually visiting a friend in town, it's a little short notice so I wanted to get her an apology wine. Is there anywhere near by?”

Rolling his eyes as he wraps up your order he makes a few gestures along with an odd remark that you somewhat gleam are directions to just go up the street. It's about one and you're moderately sure a slight deviation won't hurt, after all if time was really of the essence you'd think you'd five more concrete locations and descriptions.

Not send yourself to London in hopes of finding a woman, at least you hope she's currently an adult and not a child, named Layla with “Hair so beautiful you'd never miss her.” Those were your exact words. Apparently that's all the clues you thought you'd need to locate the biggest ally in finding the missing time jumper. Christ future you is such an asshole.

A small hopeful thought rises in the back of your head, 'Layla will find you, she's a fellow witch. She must've gotten her own message.'

It's with a big inhale you enter the wine shop, which is an awful move considering the stinging smell of the fermented juice crowding the store. Especially the overly sweet smelling assortment of varying colors greeting you on the display table as you walk by.

You don't know much about wine but you know that a floral wine feels about right. It's amazing that intuition can aid you in picking out a wine but not in finding another witch. You do your best to keep the sour look off your face as you distinguish between the two best options in front of you – bitter about your lack of skills in your craft.

A sales woman takes pity on your stumped expression, reading it as frustration over wine choices.

“Looking for yourself or a get together dear?”

A glance at the woman, “For a friend, a new one – not sure which she'd like more.”

She gives a nod, “Well which ones are we looking at? Might be ones we sample.”

“I don't,” you brush off her offer, “But I think it's between the lavender and the honey wine. I was leaning more towards a red though.” You say as your eyes dart between the two, an itch in the deepest part of your chest saying it's one of the two.

“Oh sorry dear, neither of those two are red wines. The lavender's more a blush – and actually that honey one's a mead. In the wrong spot too if you don't mind.” the older woman excuses herself as she reaches past you to pick up the bottle and reveal a willow white wine underneath. Whatever the hell that is.

“Yea, mead would be too thick then. I'll take the lavender thanks.” you nod to her and she follows you to check out. Weird to not get carded but nice to avoid the 'oh you were snapped' conversation.

After securely nestling the bottle into your pack you were back on the hunt. London isn't the biggest city out there but traveling on foot and bus alone really makes things tedious.

Then there's the chance she's a home body who you won't run into on the street. Or what if she's already out of the country?

There's an uneven half wall along the sidewalk, you take a seat as you ground yourself freeing your mind of the negative thoughts. With a hum you take off your necklace, a simple charm you got off a candle a couple months back hung on a cheap chain. It made a quick pendulum after your last four crystal ones fucked off into the void, no matter where you'd set them down they always went missing. But this celestial charm on a janky piece of chain never got lost. A crescent moon facing a sun all held within a four point star.

Like always passers by didn't spare a glance to you – like they didn't see you. Which they probably couldn't given the shield you set up around yourself. While normally you tried not blocking people out you couldn't risk drawing too much attention to your intentions with a time traveler on the loose.

Steadying your breathing you begin interrogation the pendant.

'Show me yes.' with the thought the charm began moving in a straight line back and forth.

'Now no.' And the charm slowly began to move in circles.

Asking once more for 'yes' resulted in the same straight line movement as before, now you started asking the real questions.

'Is Layla in London?' a straight line.

'Can you point me in the direction of Layla?' another straight line.

There's always some doubt in you when it comes to this method since you're still very new to this form of divination. Tossing in a question you know the answer to in order to get a 'no' response helps ease your nerves.

'Am I a Mets fan?' a stupid question considering you hold no baseball loyalties but it does work in getting a circle as a response.

The pit in your stomach fills with the reassurance that you're still on the right track. But you still can't shake the anxiety that's nawing away in anticipation for the next.

'Will you lead me to Layla?' a harsh swinging of back and forth starts before you've fully finished the question.

Taking that as the resounding yes that it was you hop off the wall and ask your pendant to guide you through the city.

Chain secured around your neck and the charm floated up allowing you to follow where it pointed. You would have looked absolutely mental if you'd been allowing anyone to actually see you. But as it was your force fields were staying up until you deemed it safe, or needed to interact with someone. Normally you'd never worry or even bother with this sort of thing. With the rise of enhanced individuals in the world and the need for “heroes” governments and other sanctions are swooping in and “recruiting” anyone they find left and right. And after what happened on Titan it's safe to say no one needs uncontrolled access to time travel.

Which is why you're paranoid enough to hoist a barrier around your self. The last thing you want is to slip up and have someone find out about a loose time traveler and set their eyes on such a hot ticket commodity. You'll be damned before you knowingly let someone with that power get exploited, much less your own son. You just really need to send him back to his own timeline where it's safer for him....hopefully.

It's been a few hours and it seems as though your necklace is leading you in circles – at one point literally swinging in circles around your neck. That or Layla has gotten lost on her way to her destination a few times. She's been on the move since you started tracking her, it's a wonder how she's moving so quickly, a bike maybe? When the necklace finally stops moving and is stationary long enough for you to follow it in one solid direction, it's lef you to an art gallery. Your interest is piqued and had this been any other time you'd have enjoyed taking a tour through the museum. As it stood now you need to find a lost child, and to do that you had to find a woman with curly hair called Layla.

What on Earth has your life come to?

The attendant manning the tickey booth did warn you, the museum would close in about an hour and that that had no effect on the price of admission, before you bought your ticket. You deal with the general public enough to understand they are covering their ass and not just being nice to a tourist by giving you the warning.

“No worries, meeting a friend here anyhow.” you say handing a few bills over.

The attendant brushes it off with a simple 'ah' erasing you from their mind after bidding you a pleasant visit.

Settling inside the galley you see it's an odd set up for an art museum as it seems loans of actual Egyptian artifacts were made, hell some of these looked to be fall on exhibit collections. You could argue relics were the modern art at one point but a full on sarcophagus was where you drew the line on art. Either things in England are done much differently than in the states or whoever was in charge of this really dropped the ball on what they got loaned to the art museum.

With only an hour before close and a now stationary pendant, it had stopped floating just as you set foot onto the stairs, you decide to stakeout the entrance and wait for people to start leaving. Given the way she ran about town you highly doubt the woman works for the museum and by the slack security team you passed on your way in you don't think she's their overeager night shift guard. If this place even has one of those.

What better place to stake out in than the gift shop. Centrally located with big windows that peer out over most of the entrance hall, the position is perfect. Fiddling with an oracle coin to calm your nerves as you watch a few families enter and meander about the gift shop before concluding their day out. Watching the doors like a hawk, or at least you'd been trying to had the hippo plush on the shelf a little ways away from you not been distracting you. It's like it was trying to say something but you just heard a static ringing, making it hard to concentrate on anything besides the adorably sewn faces staring at you.

It was a little odd that of several other dolls that you'd seen with similar expressions it was only the hippo who kept stealing your attention. Soon the static started to go through a range of frequencies and it was like whispered murmurs of 'Layla' were buzzing through your ears. Maybe Layla was supposed to show up and purchase one of these and you simply had to wait for that. Either that or the doll was simply called Layla and you'd been following around a shipment of these without even noticing.

Yea totally normal and mundane answers – not at all possible that this has now turned into an Annabelle situation where Layla's soul was attached to one of these and you'd then have to carry around a possessed doll in order to find a child and look absolutely mad talking to a doll for the entirety.

Your min runs wild with all these possibilities sometimes and one of these days you are going to manifest some weird fucking shit into your life, not like this situation isn't out there though. You really hope this doll is just called Layla, at the very least. Walking closer to the display you search for some plaque or tag, any identifier for the toy – just something that will give you any clue to the strange connection you feel for this hippo. There doesn't seem to be one, which seems an odd choice but given the extended gee of capitalism, you're willing to be it has more to do with trapping unsuspecting parents into the sale when they've already promised their children the toy and can't back out after hearing the price lest there is a massive tantrum over it.

Just as you were going to roll your eyes, a voice startles you so hard that you're sure your soul nearly detached from your body.

“Uh, sorry didn't mean to startle you, yea? ….Just it – saw you were looking at Taweret pretty hard. D'you need any help with getting one down?”

Hand pressed firmly against your chest to calm your embarrassingly erratic heart rate you felt a warmth encase your cheeks as you met the warmest brown eyes to ever belong to a human. This man looked like the pure personification of a shy puppy. It was so clear he really hadn't meant to scare you, his hunched posture and head down said it all – the stance and expression was identical to a kicked puppy.

When you finally settle enough to speak you manager a weak, “Yeah?” and though it sounded muffled and more like a question than a statement the man didn't mind.

The curly haired man simply reaches past you, plucking one off the shelf and holding it out for you. It's strange that he'd offered assistance for something well within your reach but when you notice his name tag pinned to his jacket you figure he's just doing his job. Or trying to make up for the scare he gave you, which was more on you for being so caught up in your thoughts to not have clocked him coming up behind you like that.

I appreciate it, Steven.” you smile taking the offered plush and now it's Steven's turn to look embarrassed, clearly not used to such genuine thanks.

“No trouble really, after all it's my job.��� he says about as awkwardly as a human can manage the whole time fumbling with his hands trying to find a suitable placement for them.

In doing so you're able to catch a glimpse of his wrist watch, you still have over half an hour to go, and you feel that staying in the gift shop is the right call to finding Layla. But now it feels like you might need more of a reason to stay. Looking down at the plush in your hands you ask.

“Do...do you happen to know anything about Taweret? Making small talk was never your strongest suit but maybe you can stall long enough that you'd see someone striking leave the museum.

Looking back at Steven it seems you chose the tpic correctly because of the distinct glimmer shinning in his eye – the one people get when they're talking about things they love, well at least you'll enjoy this next half hour. It'll be refreshing to talk to someone who filled with passion and not just a civil response of patterned answers. Back home you tend to hype up the kids too much, so you'll have to try and reign in your energy for the upcoming info dump you know you're about to receive. Figures an Egyptology nerd would be working here, wonder ig he had anything to do with the exhibits on display or if it was simply luck that they found their way here. Maybe a bit of both judging by how decked out this gift shop was with its Egyptian themes. Hell, even little jelly candies sat on the counter displaying themselves proudly. Well you can't really fault the man for following his happiness.

“Yes! I mean yea, a bit – well a lot. Ah, where should  start, to be honest it'd be easier to say – wait how much d'you know about the Egyptian gods?” his enthusiasm has you grinning and you can feel the control you had on your hype man energy waning.

Steven's eyes briefly flicker up behind you, he makes eye contact with his reflection giving it a sort of disgruntled pout before shaking his head and focusing on you when you start speaking.

“I've gotten a brief run down from the Kane Chronicles, then there's Egyptology: Search for the Tomb of Osiris. That's always a hit with the kids and I love recommending the 'ology' series to them, they're classic starters you know? Aside from that my study of Egyptian gods is lacking, was more of the Greek Mythos kid myself.” you joke, giving a little sway of your head with the last bit.

“So you're a librarian.” he said it with such enthusiasm that you felt bad shutting it down.

Brown eyes lock above your pout face once more, Steven gives a little gesture as if to say 'see?'.

“Uh, oh not exactly. Just a clerk but my specialties ate the children's events and getting the youths more involved with reading, as dying of a pass time as it is.”

Unlike most, Steven doesn't give you eyes full of pity or disinterest when you tell him your actual position, instead he keeps the same enthusiasm as when he called you a librarian.

“Honestly, same thing. Keeping communities involved and books circulating sounds like a librarian's task.” it's such a sweet sentiment and one you hadn't thought of. It wasn't often that the paywall standing in front of the title got to you. But occasionally you did think on how it was such bullshit that it was now needed a Bachelor's of Science to keep inventory of books and their condition. When it was technically everyone's job to do so.

You're fairly certain Ms. Patrice hadn't even had a degree. The old woman had just been grandfathered into the position after that requirement got implemented. And she never cared for it when hiring staff.

“You're right, but it's one of those letiougious things, the semantics don't matter to me I enjoy my job.” Nodding, more to yourself than to Steven, you get things back on track, “You were saying about Taweret...”

“Right, well if we just talk about her specifically in simple terms; she's a very protective goddess who oversees most aspects of life, from birth all the way to guiding the deceased in the afterlife. Some even believed she could help with reincarnating the shut if it didn't cross over properly. But that concept only popped up a couple of hundred years after...” Steven trailed off as he looked at you.

Once you noticed, you looked around wondering if maybe an actual customer came in that he needed to help. But you were still alone in the gift shop.

“Is something wrong?”

Nothing's wrong, you just haven't told him to shut up or lost interest in what he was saying. It's unusual that Steven gets the chance to really go in detail with Egyptology. He's been thrown for a loop, he's so used to being shot down before this point or called out for “pretending” to be a tour guide. The change of pace is refreshing and really put a bit of wind back into his sails after such a long day.

“I just um lost my train of thought...” a lie of course but how was he suppose to get across that he'd gotten flustered over a cute librarian who seemed to actually take interest in what he had to say.

'Dude, you're loosing' 'em.' a quick glance to his reflection in the glass window of the shop shows Jake leaning back while nodding in your direction, you who's still expectantly and patiently waiting for him to continue. With a small tilt of your head and furrow of your brow that leaves his mouth a little dry.

“Where was I?” he chuckles.

You're a blessing as you take pity on the man's nerves and answer encouragingly, “About how Taweret's connection to reincarnation was possibly retconed.”

A new voice enters the conversation causing you both to turn and look at it's owner, “More like they didn't realize Taweret's full potential for a while.”

Walking up to you both was a woman with the most perfectly placed curls you'd ever seen. A brief moment of jealousy passes through you but soon is washed away by admiration for her. It's obvious to you that this is Layla and now you understand why future you couldn't say much. She's like a goddess who walks on Earth, you wouldn't even know where to start with describing her and even then you don't think words would suffice. Gods your a simp, and it seems you'll stay a simp well into the future.

Your hunch is confirmed as Steven greets her, “Hello Layla, what brings you around?” his tone is even and relaxed though there's an underlying wariness to it.

She glances at you and gives a small smile, if you hadn't determined you were already friend-zoned in the future you may have tried to shoot your shot, before she looks back to Steven, “Waiting for your shift to end, we had plans tonight...”

The drawl at the end isn't lost on you that she's come up with that on the fly, you assume she's trying to get Steven's help with the situation. Though you never mentioned anyone else, then again you also did ask Matt to keep an eye out at home in case the kid turned up there looking for you – it's possible Layla was just covering her bases as well before diving into the search. The coin you'd been flipping before your encounter with Steven began rest heavily in your hand. With a glance to the man who's eyes are currently flickering across the museum seemingly scanning the crowd you flip the coin.

'Should we let Steven in?'

Catching the coin, the side displaying 'yes' is shining in the artificial light.

Layla had been watching you, having caught the movement of the coin flipping she turned her focus to you rather than the conversation she wasn't privy to. When you lock eyes with her you have to build up a little confidence to get your words out.

You really hadn't rehearsed or even thought of what you were going to say once you did find Layla. Half hoping she'd spot you first and just take you along for the ride while she handled things.

“Is this about the time jumper?”

From the reflection Marc can see the way Layla tenses up in surprise ar your question. Her eyes clouding a bit with uncertainty before asking, “How do you know about that?”

Marc has no idea what's going on, and judging by the faces of the other two neither do they. Was there a memo sent out that they didn't receive?

“My future self contacted  me last night and told me to find you, pleasure to meet you by the way – have a feeling we'll be good friends. Anyway they said we'd have better luck tracking the kid down together.”

He's lucky Steven hadn't been facing the other way to focus on him and Jake in the reflection of the display glass behind him, because the sheer amount of force he fronted with would have given their body whiplash for sure.

“What the fuck did I just hear – and why are you not more surprised?” looking between you and Layla he can't piece together if this is some sort of prank. But you don't look familiar, so he doesn't think you're one of Layla's friends or at least not one he met when they were together – which  would make involving you in a prank make sense.

Your wide eyes stare at him after the accent and overall vibe change of the sweet gift shop clerk. That was a decidedly not English accent and his features were more stern than before, a little more tired than as well.

“Guessing future self didn't mention him?” you shake your head.

Marc is still confused and looking to Layla for answers. Answers she doesn't have just yet but looking at you she figures she'll get them soon enough.

She gives him a shrug, “Finish up Steven's shift, he'll be pissed if you get him fired again. I'll see what more than can tell me and we'll fill you in along the way.”

Layla didn't need to motion for you to follow her outside, you would've been right behind her either way, she acted like she knew what she was doing so you'd trust her. There was  reason your were told to find her after all and what better reason than she's the boss, the brains of the operation. Marc could only watch confused  and concerned as you trailed behind Layla like some stray, it was only when you realized you were still toting around the plush and came toddling back to place it back on the shelf that Steven was able to front again and finish out his shift.

Still just as confused and in the dark as Marc was – at least you were nice, they don't meet too many like you, especially not recently.

[lovely-necromancy]

The Moon and the Stars CH3

Pairings: Jake Lockley/Reader, Marc Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader

Warnings: mild swearing, a few laws broken

Word Count: 5.8K

Steven presses the button for the crosswalk and waits for the symbol to appear, he ignores the blatant disregard for safety that you and Layla seem to share as you stride on through the busy street – not the cross section but the actual street. You turn to look back at him when you realize he'd fallen out of step with you and Layla, who didn't pay any mind to either of you breaking off from her brisk walk.

Expecting the poor British man to be a nervous wreak and looking all around like a lost overwhelmed tourist, you're left dumbstruck when you spot him patiently waiting at the cross section. A few actual tourists have gathered around him also waiting for the little man to tell them when to walk.

You spare a glance at traffic before jogging back up to him, “Did...did you just press that?”

Acutely aware that there are now several families following his lead in waiting for the lights to go, Steven begins to second guess himself at your question. Had he gotten it wrong and Americans had opposite cross way buttons? Nervously he glances towards the post seeing the two options, they did drive on the opposite side over here maybe this was also different.

“Ur...yea?” before he can question himself or even you any more you walk closer to him making a grabbing motion for his hand.

Steven still confused, warily raises his hand to meet yours. He isn't sure if he regrets it as you pull him from his spot on the sidewalk and into the street – tourists gawking and whispering as the two of you fast walk through lanes of traffic.

“We should really just have waited for the signal.” he says as cars speed around the two of you, drivers not even phased by the jaywalking.

It never occurred to Steven to pull himself from your hand, despite the obvious reckless behavior that could get you hurt – or worse. But Jake and Marc haven't stepped in to take control yet so a small part of him, a very small part, insists that you'll be fine. He's never really been one for such optimism.

“Huh? Oh nah, those are for show, don't think they even work most of the time.” You say it like the most natural thing in the world and like it isn't a huge safety hazard, but then there's a pause like you're thinking it over and then glance at Steven from the side of your eye; and he can't help but hope that some sense has finally gotten into you. When you go and ask, “Hold up, do they actually work in England?” , and he is more concerned than he was before.

“What...wait no, yea so they have to work otherwise someon'd get hurt. Ah look there, that guy, 'e just used one.” he points straight a head to a man leaving a starbucks then using the walkway as the blinking stick figure signals above.

“Nope, look at the streetlight my guy, shit's green.”

Glancing up he sees you're absolutely right, and Steven can't fathom for a second how that's even been allowed.

“It must've just broke – I'm fairly certain jaywalking is a crime here too, innit?”

You look to him and give a smile, it's not a beaming bright smile or anything flashy – just a little cheeky grin that's a little too soft for such a mischievous word, it catches Steven off guard and his breath catches in the back of his throat. Then you say, “Did you know your accent's stronger when you're nervous? It's fun, I like it.” Steven feels as warm as the sun right now. But he doesn't have to focus on that for too long when you quickly pull him up onto the sidewalk just as a patrol car rounds the corner.

“ 'sides,” you start as you stare down the cruiser, “if the only punishment's a fine it isn't a real crime.” you turn to face him as you finish the sentiment.

Layla gives an unimpressed look as you both catch up to her, having stopped by the wall of a shop waiting for you.

“Cute rhyme, but I'm pretty sure it can also cause harm and duress to others.”

“You walked.”

“Still a crime. Plus I walked myself you dragged Steven into traffic.” she raises a brow.

“Really reconsidering your bestie status right now.” your complete deadpan gets a laugh from her.

It lightens up your mood, that's been a little glum since getting off the plane. And you can't help but smile at the way her laugh crinkles the edges of her eyes.

Her laugh dies down a bit and she asks, “So, we're besties now? You get attached easily.” She's only joking, it surprises you how easily you're able to read her but she seems to match the energy given. Be up front with her and that's what you'll get back, you'd expect nothing less from your best friend.

“Who else would one: I want helping me find my child and two: actually help me find them with such an out there message?”

“And participate in careless behaviors.” Steven snarks joining the conversation.

It earns him a small snort from you and an elbow to the side from your joined arms.

“Relax will ya', I've got a pretty good lawyer. We get in trouble I'll give you his number.” you joke.

“Just how much trouble do you get up to to need a lawyer?” the teasing lilt falling out of his voice as once again Steven is concerned and nervous. Layla keeps her mirth, the added glint in her eyes lets you know she's curious as well – at least she trusts you enough to be amused by the information rather than worried about it.

All at once you quiet down; your brain suddenly latching onto an idea and you reach for your phone.

“Actually that's not a half bad idea, Imma give you Foggy's number. He and Matt are literally the only people I trust to help with this situation if we get split up.”

“That did not answer my question.”

“Steven, we're getting serious again, focus.” Layla looks to you, “Do they already know or would we have to fill them in?”

You make a half baked gesture, “Eh, I kinda ran off with like a handful of texts for Matt to watch my apartment, but honestly you could feed them any story and they'd run with it.”

“Any chance they'd be like uncles and the kid would seek them out?” she has a really good point but at the same time if the kid was with either of them he was probably the safest he could be. Or like second safest.

“It's possible, I'll ask...” your voice dies once you realize that this is the first time in two days that you've thought about your phone. Meaning for two days you haven't charged it and it's dead.

In your defense you'd been hopping around so much that the thought never struck you.

“Ok...we've got to back burner that idea, my phone's dead. New plan if we get separated just head over to the Nelson and Murdock Law firm, 's over on the Hudson can't miss it.” thinking on it you rephrase, “Well you can but unless you're in Jersey keep walking you'll find it.”

“You aren't good with directions are you?” Layla asks as she googles the firm, finding their address and number before texting both to Steven.

“Not really, just walk and I end up where I need to be.” noticing the look Steven gives you, a look that can only be described as a mother hen, you squeeze his hand and flash him a smile.

Watching the interaction Layla notices just how relaxed Steven is despite everything that's happened in the past eighteen hours. Normally he'd be gripping the hems of his sleeves and playing with the frayed edges, unraveling them even more. It may be your hand hold preventing that but Steven isn't worrying his brow or even casting nervous glances over his shoulder like a skittish dog every two minutes.

She wonders if it has something to do with Jakes's assessment of you on the plane, she may not know much about the man but he was incredibly keen at judging someone's character even with just a glance. But he'd actually spoken to you. It'd been shocking to see how he actually imitated the conversation too – normally he gives anyone besides Steven and sometimes Marc the silent treatment. Even she wasn't above the silence, then again his whole purpose was to protect the system that included emotionally and she understood where her history with Marc put her in Jake's book. But seeing how fast he gravitated towards you all but confirmed her speculations on you being a non-threat.

Now seeing how relaxed and at ease Steven is in your presence she wonders how much is Jake's influence. Even if it's subconscious. It'd be easier to tell if Marc were fronting, but the man hasn't been out since Khonshu pulled Jake to the forefront. And Jake left to rest shortly after the end of his movie, right before you could ask him what he thought of it. He hadn't given her the chance to ask for his input, he probably did it on purpose so she'd have to weed out your intentions on her own.

The bastard.

Shaking off the thought Layla looks your way before asking, “So, where to first?”

“I'm not sure, he could literally be anywhere in the city. In the child care training the EMTs said you want to check the life threatening areas first and leave places they're likely to be for last – don't waste time on where they could be if they're potentially in danger.” You start thinking of where a good place to start would be when you hear Marc mutter quietly – most likely trying to keep it to himself and not in the dickish way where he'd hope you'd hear him, “Child care training? I thought they were a librarian?”

“I am, I also take care of large numbers of children during events, I needed to take a few courses for safety.” You respond smoothly rolling your eyes, missing Layla's confused gaze and Steven's body going stiff beside you, “Now I'm thinking the worst places for him to be currently are detained at a precinct for being an unaccompanied minor or at 177th Bleecker Street. While I'm not entirely sure on the likely hood of him being there, they're the most dangerous locations we've got in the city. We should keep out eyes peeled though, something's always brewing in Hell's Kitchen.”

Steven looks over at you before glancing to the small postal box he can see Marc's reflection in, the man had just roused from his forced slumber and was just as shocked as his alter to find out that you could hear him.

“Pretty specific address for someone who doesn't have much information.” he calls out testing if you'd truly heard him that first time, that that wasn't some weird coincidence.

Your head snaps up as you process the direction that voice came from, it came from behind Layla but Marc's body was still next to you connected at the hands. Now that you thought about it you hadn't felt a shift of energy like when Jake took over last night or when Steven was given control after Jake finished his movie on the trip over. Looking to the system's body you're greeted with a very sweaty and grimacing Steven – his eyes flickering over you trying to gauge your reaction. It takes everything to peel your gaze from him and turn your focus past Layla where you see the sterner face of Marc in the glass of the yellow post box.

The small jump and tightening grip on Steven's hand was all the proof he and Marc needed to determine you could in fact see and hear the reflection. They'd call out for Jake had he not explicitly stated unless the city was on fire or they were dying not to wake him.

Layla turns looking to see what has both you and Steven shocked, frozen like two deer in headlights, only to find nothing.

“Am I missing something?”

Straightening up to look at her then whipping your head around to Steven, then the news bin and back to Steven, “She can't see him?”

“Ah, yea. Most normally don't, we're kinda in our head.” Steven comes off a bit harsh as he tries and wraps him mind around what's happening.

“Then that's actually Marc in there?” Steven manages to nod his confirmation.

Layla glances back at the news bin before facing Steven, “They can see Marc?” even being an avatar hadn't granted her access to being able to talk or see an alter who wasn't fronting.

Though she's only talking to Steven you both mutely nod.

A nervous laugh falls from you lips as you manage out a small, “And hear him...apparently.”

You all are thinking the same thing, how – and that leads to the same suspicion that a certain avain headed individual is to blame. Somehow granting you access to be privy to all of his avatars regardless of who is fronting in order to better watch and protect them in his absence. It feels like an severe invasion of privacy and despite you not asking for the ability or even knowing about it you feel dirty having used it.

Dropping Steven's hand, something he didn't seem aware was still happening until he found himself missing the warmth, you ran both hands along you jeans as you tried to rub off the crawling feeling your skin had. Seeing your distress Layla steps in with a welcomed distraction.

“You said 177th Bleecker Street, right? Why so specific, hide out for a trafficking ring or cartel?”

Shaking your head you stop rubbing you hand on your jeans, instead curling your fingers into fists in repetitive sequence. Pushing past the major ick factor.

“It's Strange's 'sanctum', he believes he has domain over time and the multiverse. Someone were to break one of those even accidentally could get on his bad side quick.” you explain shaking your head and walking forward past the stumped avatars.

“Multiverse? You can't be serious.” Steven says following you with little hesitation.

“Why wouldn't I be? Granted I don't know much about it but it's plausible that Strange is already keyed into the situation which will make things so much more fucking difficult than they have to be.”

Layla's quick to surpass Steven and falls into step with you, “When you say Strange, you mean Dr. Strange like the wizard right? Weren't you hoping for another witch, why won't he work?”

“Ugh, he's a pretentious self righteous asshole that's why. Not to mention we aren't on speaking terms right now.” you groan and glare off to the side, effectively scaring off a few passers by and getting a wider birth for your trio.

“Bad break up?” she jokes.

Catching the joke you make a gagging sound that has her smiling and shaking her head. She finds it weird how you wouldn't ask for the help of someone more local, someone who seemed more powerful than two downed avatars. But she'd trust your judgment on this, if anyone can understand things being more complicated than they seemed it's Layla.

Steven and Marc spoke in harsh whispers behind you, though it was even more distracting that if the spoke normally – your ears were subconsciously hyper focusing to pick up their conversation at random intervals. When you glance at them over your shoulder you see Steven's at least opted to talking into his phone where Marc is probably visible in the darkened reflection. It's weird knowing you're able to hear the conversations between the alters that no one else seems to be aware of. You can't help but wonder how the system was able to get used to their way of communicating.

After six blocks you notice Jake's reflection joins your party in the windows of passing shops. He must look like Steven's actual reflection because no one pays attention to the fact that he's keeping his gaze set heavy on the crowd of people around you. Searching through it and you can guess why.

“Steven hun, if you could stop looking like a frantic tourist we can ditch the thief following us.”

Steven sputters his response to Marc, caught off guard by what you said.

Acting like she's focused on the flustered man Layla chances a glance to the sea you've found yourselves among. Not spotting anything she goes back to walking causally beside you.

“How do you know we're being followed?”

“Heard Terkisian close his shop door a few steps after we passed, only does that if someone's being obvious about being up to no good. But wasn't clued in that it was us that got tagged until Jake started glaring into the crowd.” you nod to the reflection forgetting for a moment that she can't see the alter.

Marc's voice is quick to cut through as he takes control of the body, “How are we sure it isn't someone after the kid?”

You stop walking and move into a little alley, Marc and Layla wordlessly following after.

“We don't but there's a chance we could loose them by-” your voice gets stuck in your throat as a hand clasps your shoulder.

The weight pressing down on you feels suffocating and intense. You don't even need to turn to know who's just touched you. Self appointed protector of the multiverse “Dr” Strange.

It's only when you start to struggle out of the grip that Marc and Layla spring into action. At least they tried to – before they can making it two steps forward a portal opens in front of them.

“Will you all relax, I just have some questions.”

His words have the opposite affect on you and you begin to thrash harder.

“Who are you to tell us to relax, where the hell'd you'd come from?” Marc yells.

Layla is quick to jump to your defense, “If you just want to talk, then let them go. They're clearly agitated and I don't think that's good for any of us.”

With a roll of his eyes, as though you three were the biggest inconveniences to him – and you probably were, he releases you. You're sent scrambling to the wall and pressing your back into it as harshly as you can to fight off the meltdown you feel about to bubble over. You are too aware of the beating of your heart and what the blood rushing through your veins right now feels like to think straight.

You hated being touched and to be grabbed so suddenly and by him of all people it felt so much worse. Bile threatened to rise from your throat as your chest harshly heaved. It was a good thing you were using the wall to ground yourself, you were bound to get light headed if your body kept this up.

Strange looks at the three of you with skepticism in his eyes, Layla and Marc get slightly more concerned looks directed their ways. When no one offers to say anything more Strange turns back to you.

“I believe we've been overdue for a chat.”

Collecting your breathing for just a moment you're able to spit, “I have nothing to say to you.” with about as much vitriol as you can muster in your current state.

Briefly you consider calling upon Khonshu but doubt he'd see this as much of an emergency.

A frustrated huff leaves the wizard and he raises a hand, no doubt about to summon another one of his stupid portals to transport you somewhere isolated anyway. That is until an explosion erupts somewhere down the street. All four of your heads whip around to look, Marc looks like he's about to run towards to commotion and Layla's hand darts out to grip his bicep – catching him before he can execute whatever half assed plan he was even considering.

Strange looks back at you and says, “I'd tell you not to move, but you wouldn't listen. We will be talking soon.” He floats off leaving you there.

You glare after his retreating form, watching the faint wisps of energy swirl around him before converging on his hands as he start is incantations before even seeing the damage. Typical show pony.

Pushing yourself off the wall you don't look at Layla or Marc for a moment as your head spins. Reeling you can't help but face the wall and give it a series of short kicks while letting out a shrill ear piercing shriek.

Layla is already over by your side when you fall to your knees, out of exhaustion. She does her best to soothe the remainder of your outburst, surprisingly does it well for someone who doesn't know you. After you quiet down she asks, “Was that explosion you?”

You shake your head, holding back tears as your skin burns. It feels like it's trying to rip itself apart, the pain is worse on your shoulder where he touched you.

“We should probably get moving then.” She says it gently, urging you to get up with her so the three of you can leave before Strange thinks to check if you'd still be there.

“Ye, it was probably whoever's been followin' us. Dunno how to feel 'bout them makin' a distraction.” Jake says as he keeps an eye out to the street, watching as people gauge the situation. Tourists are easily spotted running away while the locals are busy checking updates on subway delays and traffic figuring out how much of their day just got pushed back.

Layla looks over to Jake as she waits for you to compose yourself, “Think they know about the kid?” Jake just shrugs in response to her question. Not really sure one way or another – best to assume the worst that they do though.

“Even if they do, Strange doesn't he wouldn't waste his time being cryptic if he knew who was out there. I'd really like to keep it that way.” you say standing up on shaking legs.

It's a wonder Layla has made it as a vigilante with her bleeding heart. You can tell she wants to comfort you, it's written in those warm brown eyes – that without really knowing a thing about you she wants to help. Surely that'd be a liability out in the field. And the thought is further driven home when you answer her unasked question with a quiet “I'll be fine.” and a hand resting on her forearm. The small smile she gives you settles your warring emotions.

“You guys ready to hit up the precincts? You say striding over to the entrance of the alley.

Layla and Jake wordlessly follow you, Layla's attention set on you certain that Jake will be vigilant enough to keep an eye out for the crowd and the wizard should he try to show up.

You're outside of the 25th Precinct station when Jake and Layla stop walking as you went up the stairs. Turning back when you noticed they weren't with you you motion for them to follow. Layla;s frown nearly matches the scowl on Jake's face as both follow you in.

The blonde at the reception desk looks up from her computer, “Hmm, oh hey you.” She calls out with a flirtatious lit drifting off her tone. “Long time no see, the boys got you runnin' arrands for them again? She lets out a good natured laugh.

“Hah, they wish. Nah, I'm actually here 'cause one of the kids at the library mentioned their brother ran away – wonderin' if your boys found a seven year old wandering about?” you bend to lean on her counter a little.

Her mouth sets into a tight frown and she sends a glance towards the bull pen, “Now you know I can't be sayin' … I can not disclose anything, not to a civilian.” She reaches out to run a hand up your arm and you lean down to hear her whisper, use to this game.

“No runaways or orphans have been radioed. Try Coney and the...the” her words slur a bit as you bring a hand to twirl the lock of hair, blocking her lips from the bull pen as a few officers glance your way before going back to their conversations. “There's a new spot we've been finding kids, one of those...oh would you cut that out.” she lightly bats your hand away and you let her snickering, “It's on one of the I dunno what to call it but that pier thing tourists like to use to take photos of the bridge.”

You snort, “Oh the 'look I've seen the Queensboro Bridge in person, also can I tell you about my trip to New York' observation deck.”

It's her turn to let out a huff as she rolls her eyes, “It's a fucking bridge what's there to see?”

A voice calls out from the pen, “Marnie, quit flirting and get back to work.” the exclamation gains a chorus of laughter. Ones that leave Marnie's face looking as though she's smelled something foul.

“Well, I'll get out of you hair.” her expression softens at your words.

“Suga', they don' mean nothin' by it, 's a little teasin' 's all.” her brown eyes drift over to Jake and Layla, apparently seeing something she doesn't like with the two she leans in again hand smoothing down your arm to your hand before tapping twice.

A small smile finds you face before you break out into a grin, “It's fine girly, I'll let you get back to work. I'll be back at the library in a week or two. Drop by?”

Looking back at the two behind you she worries her lip looking back at you, “Better give me a damn good recommendation.”

“I know an excellent picture book.”

That catches the officer walking in by surprise and she snorts before rushing past you two.

Marnie smacks your arm, “You can leave now.” she says nastily.

Laughing you pull Layla and Jake out of the precinct, letting go once you all hit the top step.

“Well that was a bust, but I'd say the top eh...ten? Places he'd be in the most near death danger are off the list. Gotta be a plus, though she did mention that new hang out spot for runaways, think he'd head there?” you were writing in your notebook, crossing things off and adding the new location.

“Not sure but it doesn't feel like we're getting anywhere. How do you find someone you know nothing about?” Layla pauses then locks eyes with you, “Yeah wait, actually how did you find me?”

You blink owlishly before holding up your necklace in between your thumb and index finger.

“Divination. And before you ask this is what happens when I try to locate the kid.” much like when you set about trying to find Layla you set your intentions to find the traveler only instead of pointing in one direction it was spinning clockwise, counter, clockwise, counter and so on nonstop.

“No clue what it means, all I do know is this method is useless in tracking him.”

Layla's mouth sets into a harsh frown, this was turning bleaker by the minute. Jake on the other hand seemed to take the drawbacks in stride. Clearly you weren't hoarding resources, if anything you'd probably exhausted a lot of your talents before rushing off to grab Layla, who you thought would be the solution to your problem, not just another variable in the equation.

“What about contacts, ya got anyone else like Marnie?” he asked.

“Not really, I mean there's Foggy and Matt. Matt was supposed to keep an eye on my place for me so maybe he ran into the kid.”

Jake rolls his shoulder getting a crick out of his neck, “Anythin's wroth a shot at this point.”

You all seem to agree on that front. It was a bit of an argument on how you should get there though, everyone was pretty tired of walking around, you'd suggested an uber which Jake shot down because he doesn't do well when someone else is driving, his solution was to rent a car but you didn't find that fiscally reasonable, plus you'd be spending too much time filling out paperwork. When Layla suggested the subway Jake vetoed it on price while you gave a half assed excuse about it taking longer than an uber potentially more given any delays.

“If we rent a car, we won;t have to have this argument every single time we relocate.” was Jake's winning statement and exactly what led to you three at a Hertz center.

Once the paperwork was settled Jake ushered you and Layla into a white Nissan Pathfinder.

“Christ dude, did you have to choose a minivan? What's the gas mileage on this thing?” you ask sliding into the back.

“Shut up and buckle up. Steven's doing enough complaining about 'petrol' for everyone.”

“I haven't heard him.”

“Lucky you, I can feel him lecturing me in my own head.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you wait for Jake to start driving. Meanwhile Layla chimes in with a few complaints about the subway route.

“I just don't see the point in a city having it if everyone is so opposed to it. Like does American public transport suck that much?”

“Yes.” you and Jake reply simultaneously.

But you at least defend your position, “And I'm not against it, my card's just expired. Given their,” pointing a thumb in Jake's direction, “patron, and both your vigilante status I figured neither of you would be cool with hopping the turnstiles.”

“...that why you got a lawyer, fare evasion?”  Jake stares at you from the rear-view mirror.

Without looking up, “Still just a fine if I get caught so not a real crime.”

“Why don't you just renew your card?” Layla asks turning in the passenger's seat to look at you.

Sighing, “Because it...it's just the one thing I still have from 2018. I know it's stupid and I should move one but I missed five years, five years I can't get back. All my belongings and my home were gone so when I got back all I had was this stupid metro card to prove who I was. I didn't have my wallet on me or any family that was waiting here for me.”

It's a tense moment before Layla starts to apologize, “I'm sorry I didn-” you cut her off, “You couldn't have known. I'm mostly fine...it's just a hang up I still have.” you exhale hard on the last word.

The car ride falls silent, and you think it'll stay like that until you get to the law firm until Jake speaks up.

“Steven was snapped too. He's more use to blackouts though.” He said it so casually like it wasn't the biggest deal in the world that one of the body's inhabitants was yeeted away for five years.

“What? You – is that why Marc left...wai...Oh my god.” Layla sits in her seat looking down into her lap thinking over the bomb that Jake just dropped. She'd always suspected the Jake and Steven just hadn't been around for those five years but finding out only Steven was dumbfounding.

You have no idea what that must have been like for Jake or Marc, or even Steven you all haven't really had the chance to get to know each other. But you still find yourself saying, “That must have been terrifying loosing a head mate like that.” The car falling back into silence for the rest of the drive.

Jake inhaled sharply as his knuckles turned white from the overbearing grip he had on the steering wheel, so tight he's probably left indents in it. You had no idea, neither did Layla, hell no one but he and Marc had any clue as to how much Steven's disappearance took on the system. Marc had blacked out the first few weeks after the snap, he'd always thought it had been from stress even after Jake officially introduced himself. Never had he even thought that Jake had been fronting and trying to figure out how their calm headmate had been snapped but left them, hollow and in distress. Steven had been made to retain some innocence in Marc's life, a coping mechanism to try and form needed attachments that neither he or Jake could make in their distress.

While Marc assumed Steven had been formed first, having been aware of him near instantly, it was actually Jake. After the funeral Jake had been confronting helping Marc compartmentalize his emotions to move on. When the abuse started Jake actually started coming out to be the punching bag. But Jake was just a child himself and when that got too much for even him their brain gifted them Steven. Steven had formed much like Jake in those first weeks talking to Jake about this or that and suggesting what activities they should do. Most times arranging the order of their LEGOS. After a bit Jake took second seat and would cofront with Steven in charge of the body just to get some peace and quiet.

Those small moments of peace were the best parts of Jake's childhood. It didn't mind that Steven had thought him to be an imaginary friend at the time and stopped talking to him. He enjoyed his small moments with Steven even after the boy didn't actively need him during his time fronting.

So it was Jake who was hit the hardest by Steven's disappearance. The alter had been something of a little brother in his mind and it nearly broke the system again until they'd heard about the snap. Then Jake could only feel useless and hopeless that nothing he could've done could have changed anything. He felt like he'd failed protecting Steven, protecting the system. Failed the entire purpose he had been literally made for. Khonshu had a hard time reigning them in after that, Jake being even more volatile than normal and Marc unable to front for longer than a few hours. Until Layla came into their lives, well Marc's life.

Jake had been bitter about her entering their lives, but wouldn't say anything or stand in the way of Marc's happiness. He'd already failed one alter and he'd be damned if he failed another. It would be a lie to say that when Steven came back he wasn't relieved when Marc made the call to leave her. Their system was complete and there was no need to have her around anymore. Which was further proven after her failed relationship with Steven as well.

[lovely-necromancy]

The Moon and the Stars ch5

Pairings: Mark Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader, Jake Lockley/Reader

Warnings: Swear words, inaccurate DID, inaccurate Spanish (I’m like lvl one guys bonus I did grow up in a bilingual family so accurate bilingual moments)

Word count: 6,441

It was a long and silent walk back to the car. Everyone was walking on eggshells to not crack under the suffocating silence that had fallen over your now large group. The occasional sniffle could be heard from the young boy gripping your hand to the point it was starting to feel numb. As Mateo played with the rings on your fingers doing his best to calm down.

After you'd released him from the hug back in the library; you, Layla, and Peter all saw double. When standing next to Steven it would be hard to even try and deny who Mateo got his genes from. It was telling if it got even Peter to shut his mouth. Matt had to make his own conclusions based off of the general reactions. Thankfully for once he'd put a lid on his sarcastic comments and was allowing everyone else to have a moment to process the big reveal. Or he was focusing on how to explain this all to Foggy later, the man was like an overprotective older brother when it came to you, he probably wouldn't be too happy to know you'd have a child with this strange man.

There were a few glances sent Steven's way by large teak wood doe eyes. All the work Mateo did to soothe himself was undone with every glance he sent in the man's direction – the you boy's eyes fluttering rapidly and the grip on your hand constricting even more.

Not one of the system had said one word to him.

And it was heart breaking to watch Mateo struggle with the silence. You wanted nothing more than to engulf him in another hug and reassure him things were fine. That Steven, Marc, and Jake just needed a little bit to get their thoughts together; that unlike you the men hadn't been expecting to meet their future son this week. But it wasn't the time to have a sit down with the kid, you still needed to get him somewhere safe, somewhere with wards built in.

Not to mention you'd hate to just put the men on the spot like that – they deserved this brief moment of contemplation. Especially with the way Steven was wringing his hands as if he were trying to pop his wrist right off of his arm.

Then the silence was abruptly shattered for you and Steven when you got to the car.

“Kid's too small, he needs a booster seat.” Jake said via reflection in the back window as you all approached.

His gaze flickered towards Steven but would linger on Mateo as he spoke to his headmate, likely forgetting that you could also hear him.

Steven jumped out of his skin when the words suddenly came flying out, breaking him from his thoughts. The system could speak in their headspace and hear each other fine, but Steven was known to block out everything when he was so deep in thought. Scaring the hell out of Steven to get his attention had become accepted by all including Steven, begrudgingly.

Steven's jump went unnoticed to the other three as Peter had stopped walking suddenly and frantically began attempting to pop his ears. Layla looked on concerned and Matt stopped as she slowed down, not wanting to bump into his guide should she stop.

“You alright Peter?” she asked confused by his sudden jittery behavior.

“Uh...hm.. yeah just, got an intense ringing just now.”

The back of Peter's neck was practically crawling and he couldn't gauge where his senses were telling him to look.

“Well then, Mr. Parker we should probably get you home then. Maybe laying down will help that.” Matt let go of Layla's arm as he used his cane to find Peter again.

Taking your focus off of Jake's ranting you ask, “Did you guys need a ride?”

“No that's alright, I should get back to the firm. Have to get some work done today.” Matt jokes.

Peter nods, “And I need to pick up some things for May before dinner tonight.” Peter presses his hand to his ear and rapidly shakes it. Wincing as the pressure and motion to nothing to stop the ringing and tingling in his ear.

“Ok, just text when you get home.”

“You too.” Matt calls out as he finds his way using his cane to catch the sidewalk.

When Peter makes to leave without saying anything you call out to him, “I'm serious Parker, don't make me call May tonight. It'll be that LEGO ship if you do.”

“Ok, yea I'll text when I get home.”

Jake was still ranting to Steven having switched to Spanish when Steven kept ignoring him. Ignoring was the wrong term, the British man seemed more stumped on how to respond to the badgering coming from his normally laid back alter.

You sigh.

“We don't have time t run and grab a booster seat Jake.” you're tired and annoyed and it comes through in your tone.

You miss the way Layla's eyes follow Peter with a questioning frown in place.

Having finally gotten a response from someone Jake hones in on you instead.

“He's too small we need a booster seat.”

“And where do you suppose we go to get one? How would we all get there?” it's clear that if you take into account Jake's concern someone will have to stay behind with Mateo as the rest of the party gets a booster seat.

“There are stores literally everywhere it won't even take thirty minutes.” he bites back.

“Hah, in this city? It'll take thirty minutes just to park, ask Marc.”

Mateo tugs on your hand gaining your attention. You tilt your head at him with a small “Hmm?”

“Papi solo se preocuparse.”

And that's what launched Jake into commanding the body from Steven who was still a bit of a space cadet, unable to follow the alter's or your argument.

“Y buena razón!” Jake gently chides the boy before facing you, his posture straight as he meets you with direct eye contact. “A seat belt won't properly fit him, he'll get hurt if there's an accident.” he stresses to you.

“Ok, I get that, I really really do but what's your solution? You run to the store while we stay out in public,” you lean into whisper, “with a time traveler? The longer we stay out in the open the more risk we're putting Mateo in. We need to think about his safety, Jake.”

“I am thinking about his safety, you want him flying through -”

Mateo lets out a shrill yell.

“Family meeting!”

It's effective in stopping the argument between you and Jake.

You're eye level with your son before you really register what he's just asked for, surprisingly Jake also followed your lead, kneeling at his side.

“What's up?”

“Qué es?”

His little shoulders relax as his eyes dart from your face to Jake's and repeats the motion a few times. Finding his words before he speaks.

Wringing his hands he looks away from Jake, keeping his eyes trained on your own hands resting on your knees.

“Hola papi.” he whispers in the smallest voice.

And still Jake's features grow impossibly soft at the timid greeting, “Hola hijo, ¿qué pasa?” he asks gently.

Biting his lip Mateo looks up at his father once more scuffing his toe into the ground. He hesitantly stretches his arms out to the man. Jake's face is a mixture of confusion and pure shock when it clicks what the boy wants. Gingerly he wraps his arms around him, one arm firmly around his torso and the other coming up to let him cradle the back on his son's head as Mateo roosts into his chest.

With shakey pupils and unsteady breath Jake looks directly into your eyes over Mateo's shoulder. In that instant you both understood you needed to work together for your son's sake.

After Jake released Mateo from the embrace he looked deeply into your eyes and spoke as if he were trying to reach your soul.

“I don't like it but...I'll drive carefully. No middle seat though.” he says with an air of finality as his eyes turn back to their normal confident indifference.

You nod, “I trust you.” and you did.

You'd all made it back to your apartment in one peace; you even shot off texts to Foggy, Peter, and Matt letting them know that you'd made it home safely. You gave everyone free run to make themselves at home in your cozy little one bedroom apartment. Mateo stayed by your side clutching your hand in one of his while his other had Jake firmly planted.

You weren't sure who had the stronger grip on who in the moment.

Layla made her way to the couch and collapsed into it, taking a minute to breathe before straightening up and looking over at the three of you. Her heart clenched a little at the small family before her, a passing thought of a future she and Marc never had – had talked about but hadn't gone further than the what if phase.

She swallows that down, evening out her tone with a heavy exhale, “We gonna talk about this elephant in the room then?”

Mateo turns scanning the part of the room, even standing on his tip toes trying to peer down the hallway.

You choke back the laugh that threatens to spill from your lips, Layla bites back her smile – Jake has no qualms about letting out a small chortle at the child's naivety.

“It's just a saying baby, Auntie Layla just wants to talk about our family.” he doesn't look convinced by your explanation, like there could still be some type of elephant in the room but he'll accept your explanation for now.

You wait for Layla to speak again, knowing she has something on her mind. She takes her time eyes roaming over Mateo who stops his search and beams over to her with a small wave of your conjoined hands.

“Hi, auntie!”

She cracks a small smile despite the clench in her chest and the stinging behind her eyes.

“Hi Mateo, nice to meet you.” it gets a giggle out of the little boy, who bashfully tries to hide behind your legs.

Layla thinks carefully about her words before she asks, “So, Mateo Marc's your dad?”

The way his nose scrunches up and his brows dip down at that question is too cute. You really hadn't thought much about kids in your future, when you did they were just passing thoughts here or there but Mateo is really winning you over.

“No.” he says shaking his head and Jake stiffens next to you as you look from him to his mini me and back. There's no possible way they can't be related.

Jake's thumb flattens his knuckles in a muted cracking but there is no pop only the dull and heavy pressure on his knuckles.

“Steven's my dad. Marc's pops, and Jake is papi.” it's spoken with the conviction only a child could convey. Simple and with no room for argument; each word was spoken as if it were truth and law.

“And what else can you tell us hijo?”

Mateo stops trying to hide behind you when Jake speaks to him, he leans close to his father bumping into his side as he sways back and forth between you two.

“Um...” he mumbles before locking eyes with Jake. He straightens out his posture and says, “I'm seven and this is my first time jump!” his voice is filled with bravado and pride. His grin fades once he remembers something. Turning in on himself his hands slip from your grasps falling limp by his sides, shoulders slumping downwards making him appear smaller as well as downcast eyes stubbornly refuse to look any of you as he mumbles out, “I think...I missed my mark. I wasn't home I was here in zazi's apartment. I was supposed to be home.”

His eyes blink rapidly now.

All of you share a concerned look amongst yourselves at his distress.

“It's gonna be ok Mateo.” you coo rubbing a hand between his shoulders.

He shrinks in on himself even more and dejectedly mutters, “But I messed up twice.”

Messing with the already flattened and misshaped curls on his head you share looks with the other two, hoping they have a helpful suggestion. Layla has a frown set in place obviously concerned about the information while Jake stares at Mateo, man looks seconds away from scooping the poor thing into his arms.

With a sigh you pat your knees standing up and change the subject.

“It's gonna be fine, we'll figure this out. For now...it's almost dinner time, we should call something in – I wasn't expecting company so the shelves are pretty bare. You got any allergies?” nudging Mateo.

He nods, “I can't have dairy or gluten. And it needs to come from a kosher kitchen.”

You look at Jake who gives a confriming nod to your unasked question, before answering Mateo, “We're in New York, it shouldn't be an issue. I'll go get the menus.”

On the way to the kitchen you pull out your phone and text Peter. Jokes are your go to coping mechanism but you aren't sure if anyone in the other room is really ready for that right now. Instead you bother the neighborhood sarcastic comedian.

'You think a Rabi would know if an enby could birth a Jew?”

His reply is instant, 'o yea...meant to ask about that. I can get aunt may to ask next time she runs into rabi ruddenstien'

'home btw' he ends

Shaking your head at his antics you reply, 'Thanks Peter. For everything.'

'np..., Hey you gonna be ok with all this? there's smt strange about the marc guy'

'I know, and I may tell you later...idk I have to ask first.'

It takes him a bit to respond, probably relaying everything to May, 'ok just so you know i heard a certain spider is creeping around sure if you yell he'd hear'

The kid was too sweet for his own good sometimes.

Putting your phone back in your pocket you open the drawer that was home to various miss matched pot holders and a number of menus. Pushing back a glass that was precariously placed at the edge of the counter as you grabbed the menus.

When you get back to the living room you notice Mateo isn't there anymore and Jake is watching the hallway like a hawk.

Spreading the menus out on the coffee table in front of her you sit down next to Layla who's been very quiet this afternoon, “Bathroom?”

She startles a little, “Oh, yeah? I think, honestly I'm not sure he said he had to check on something and ran down that way.”

You relax into the couch with a shrug, there isn't much for Mateo to get into in your apartment so there's no reason for you to be worried. This is the perfect time to kick back a little, there's no time traveling seven year old on the loose and unattended, instead he's tucked safely in your protected apartment. All that's left is to figure out how to send him home.

“Were we thinking dinner then planning or planning over dinner?” you ask her.

She sighs, “This has all been...” casting a glance down the hallway and at Jake over by the window, “a lot to take in. Maybe we just...I dunno rest and pick back up in the morning?”

“It's your call Layla, I knew how deep this water was. I've already given Marc an out; y'know for helping with the whole sending Mateo back but now-” you motion towards the newly installed sentry in your apartment and she gives a slow understanding now – the system was unlikely to leave now knowing just how connected they were to this mission. “Seriously, if you wanted to call it quits right now I wouldn't blame you – or stop you for that matter. You've done more than enough, which...thank you by the way.”

There's a sad glimmer in her eyes as she looks at you. She makes her decision in that moment.

“No, no I'm staying.” her tone was firm and there was a small fire in her eyes. “They're my friends and you are too now. So, I'm helping. For the long run, I'm helping.”

You give her a smile hoping it communicates just how grateful you are for her help. While you would've easily let them all leave you wouldn't know the first place to start when it came to sending a time traveler back home to his time.

“Mateo, come here we're ordering dinner.” you call out down the hall.

It isn't long before curly haired boy comes rushing out of your room holding a jar with Coo following after him.

Layla's eyes widen and a comically large frown is set on her face, “Oh...I don't know what I was expecting...I mean I know they all said you had a pigeon but...wow.”

Her shock was actually the best reaction you'd had to someone meeting Coo, most people tended to freak out thinking he was a wild pigeon or given his scarring from abuse thought he was a mean bird.

You shrug off her comment as Coo excitedly flys up to your shoulder to perch and greet you. “Hey buddy, been good? Kept the house spider free?” you joke with him as you give him scritches.

Layla gestures to the jar in Mateo's hands, “Whatcha got there?”

The young boy holds out what you recognize as one of your home's many protection jars, despite it's sludgey appearance. You'd never had one of your jars turn out like this; sure they sometimes caught nasty energies and would rot one or two ingredients but never had they developed what can only be described as a tar like dark liquid – clinging and staining the sides of the jar at every little movement.

“Khonshu's mad.” you aren't sure what the flash of fear that spiked through you was from. The dead serious tone of a child giving a cryptic message or the fact that he was certain the jar was a result of his father's patron.

Very calmly you kneel to his level and take the jar from him, “Right, so yea...we'll talk to him later. Right now we're going to relax and have dinner alright?” he gives you a nod and you try to send your best reassuring smile in spite of the loud forceful beating of your heart.

When he beams back up at you you gently pet the top of his head, careful of his still formed curls. Standing back up you speak to Jake and Layla, “I'm gonna go ahead and...dispose of this, you guys pick something and I'll order when I get back I shouldn't be long.”

Mateo quickly takes your spot next to Layla taking two menus and scanning their offered items. Jake catches your gaze, eyes dipping down to look at the jar in your hands with a sneer. Jake moves from the window to be closer to the couch looking over the boy's shoulder, Mateo notices and leans closer to his papi to share the menu.

Kid had the man wrapped around his little finger and everyone in the room knew it.

Your ride up to the roof felt more a kin to a death march, as you made your way to the lovely community garden. Hawkeye had bought out the buildings on this block a while after the first snap. Not only did it help tenants in the area recover but it rebuilt the community by helping everyone pull in their resources without having to worry about rent. Even after the second snap it was a community that welcomed you with open arms. At the next community meeting you were actually going to open a petition for a bee hive or two to help improve pollination of the garden up here; it's also be a way to source local honey and wax for projects for kids at the library.

But that isn't what you were up here for – now you're using this garden as a way to take care of the gross sludge in a jar Khonshu had supposedly left for you. Taking a trowel you break the seal of the jar and pour a bit of soil from the garden in to it before you reseal it. Taking care to surround it with a small force field preventing anything from leaking out and spreading through the neighborhood. You set the intention to have the dirt purify the contents before you tuck the jar away to be brought out later when it isn't a nasty ball of negativity and hate just waiting to seep into someone's life.

“You have my sincere apologies, little witch.” the sudden voice has you jolting, hands nearly dropping the glass jar.

“Christ!”

“Not quite.” he muses “I am surprised that you've found the traveler so quickly...given your many follies.”

Another voice is quick to break through the peaceful dusk skyline, “Khonshu.” Jake's warning comes out as a growl towards his patron god.

The deity bristles under the hidden accusation, “Oh please, spare me your chivalrous act Lockley. Tell me if it hadn't been so obvious that the traveler was yours would you be this protective over the witchling? To think my own Moon Knight is to spawn what is sure to be a constant thorn in my side. This has the worm's influence all over it – the impudence, done to spite me no doubt.”

“I have no idea what tangent you're on about. But yes, we've found Mateo. He's safe and accounted for; now all we have to do is figure out how to send him home.”

Khonshu has stepped closer to you now, “And yet you intend to play house for the evening now that he's been located, rather than let me send him back this very instant by myself?”

Though he poses it as a question it's more of a critique.

“We agreed that-”

“No, I did not agree. We did however, make a deal...an arrangement one I plan on keeping. But know this witchling,” he takes another step towards you and Jake moves to step in between you, “do not test me by keeping the child here longer than it takes. I will send him back regardless...if need be.”

Inhaling deeply you steady your tone and inflection before speaking.

“All due respect Lord Khonshu,” you stress, “Mateo is seven. He hasn't seen his family in days. He has a right to be overwhelmed and volatile. On top of that your Moon Knights have just found out they have a future son. I think everyone would benefit from a few hours to process and relax. I mean unless you'd rather us feeble mortals push through the exhaustion and emotional duress potentially leading to a much bigger timeline mishap if Mateo misses his next stop. We don't know how accurate his jumps are and from the sound of it he'd been prepared and prepped for the first jump that landed him here.”

Your head is tilted to meet Khonshu's eye sockets head on, he tilts his head further up leaving his beak in your line  of sight.

“I pray you never meet a pettier god, my work will be cut out for me if you do. That tongue of yours could stand to remain still.”

Looking between you and Jake the god can't help but huff. Not even fully together and already you were getting on his nerves.

“Fine, I shall leave until morning. The second the moon sets we will be discussing this further.”

“Hold up!” Jake calls out halting the god in his attempt to leave.

Once he has the moon god's attention he asks, “Why give them the ability to see us – the reflections what purpose does that serve?”

Khonshu's posture is lax as he leisurely looks towards you, “You're mistaken Jake Lockley, I had nothing to do with that. The witchling is just coming into their powers now that they aren't stomping them down.”

Before either of you can ask him anything else a sharp gust of wind blows through taking Khonshu with it. Looking at each other you and Jake are left with a lot more questions than you'd started with.

The ride back down to the apartment seemed longer than the ride up to the gardens. Jake had given you the heads up that Mateo had picked out something he swore you'd love and so Jake went ahead and ordered the food. You still had about fifteen minutes left for the delivery to get there.

You thanked him and asked how much it was so you could pay him back.

Instead he changed the subject, “Mateo's a good name.” he compliments.

“Thanks, I've never been one to think about my future or the possibility of kids...but Mateo was just one name I'd throw around a bit. And – well when I saw him it was like I just knew it was meant for him.”

Jake nods, thumb rubbing the underside of his index finger.

“It suits him...and it doesn't sound too bad with our last names: Mateo Lockley, Mateo Grant, Mateo Spector.” he lists.

You find yourself staring at him with your lips pursed to the side, “You...each have different last names? Wait – sorry is that rude, I just hadn't given it much thought before so it's a bit surprising to hear.”

“It's fine. Not like it changes anything...but it may be difficult for you to choose which to take later.” he looks away with a shrug.

At first you thought one of the other men were in the reflective bit of the metal but when your gaze hit the wall it's only Jake's reflection staring back at you.

You hum out, “You mean if we all got married? I could just keep my name y'know.” you grin and look towards the man instead of the reflection as he turns to face you again.

He looks at you, brows furrowed and for a second you think it's Marc with his stone stern features, “What'd ya mean 'if'? Like we're just gonna knock ya up and be done with it?”

He seems offended by the mere thought, while you just let the comment roll off like water.

“Not everyone who have children together are married.”

Sparing a glance at your phone you do some quick calculations.

“That aside. Jake, we've only known each other for thirty-seven hours – give or take. We've just found out that we will have a child together sometime in the undisclosed future, who has special abilities. I ...we don't have to rush anything ok? We have time to figure this all out. Don't force yourself into some role just for Mateo's or my sake. If it's meant to be it will be.”

The doors open and you make your exit, Jake following behind. Before you can get too far he grabs at your wrist, holding you in place. It's not tight or suffocating and if you're honest with yourself you should have expected this level of romantic comedy drama from a man who so intensely watched Twilight on the plane last night. So, you weren't shocked that it happened, just another movie trop you can cross off the bucket list right up there with having a shitty day and getting splashed with rainwater from a truck speeding past.

“It's not forced...I want this – I want a family.”

Looking into his brown eyes all you see is truth but also a wave of uncertainty as though he's afraid of the rejection of his confession. You're in trouble in your future, those eyes all but seal it for you. All it'd take is just one glance at those captivating windows and you'd fold faster than a lawn chair, and given the exact replica just down the hall you can just about imagine how much you cave into your boys' demands.

“You are such a dork.” you say it so lightly and with a breathy laugh that Jake almost didn't hear it. Almost. His heart had skipped a best when he heard it.

“At the end of the day I guess you'll be my dork though. But again we have time.” you stress each word in your last sentence as you grab his other hand with yours rubbing a thumb along his torn up knuckles.

“We'll figure things out Jake. For tonight let's go try and relax. Be there for our son.”

Jake couldn't deny the tingling sparks he felt all over when you uttered the words 'our son', even if he wanted to he just couldn't. Jake Lockley never thought he or either of the other alters would ever be in this position but now he knows that they all get a chance at the domestic life: caring, loving spouse by their side rearing a well adjusted child who saw each man as a father. He may not know anything about you aside from being a witch with a somewhat auspicious past – if your friends were anything to go off of. But even at your worst you probably weren't as bad as he himself was. The hands you held onto so firmly yet so gently have killed people; just torn into their bodies and soaked in their blood or strangled the life out of them.

These hands of his didn't deserve to have soothing circles rubbed into them, or the feather light touches that caressed their callouses, they didn't deserve the delicate hold you had or the slight swaying of you swinging them. Jake Lockley was a bad man, not an evil one he'd just done a lot of nasty things in his life and in Marc's. But he's never been a selfish man – always put the system above himself personally...until he saw Mateo with his own eyes. Heard the boy call him 'papi'. Jake wanted to be selfish now, despite Marc's shutdown – the eerie silence triggering a meltdown for Steven – Jake wanted this. He wanted to have this nice loving family that he should have gotten as a child. Hell there was a reason you two had a child in the future so why not be selfish and find out.

He may not have known anything about you, but he was sure he could love you.

“You're right, there's no rush.” he returns the gentle grip on your hands bringing them up to his face to plant a gentle kiss on the back of your knuckles. It may have been just a small thank you but the way your breath hitched and your pupils dialated left him smirking. He could slow down to enjoy this, enjoy these moments – ultimately it didn't matter how long it took to get together because there was proof sitting on the floor of your apartment. Jake could be selfish and he'd get to have his family.

Closing his eyes he savors the moment nonetheless, releasing your hands with a deep exhale he turns serious once more, like he was just outside of the library earlier today.

“We're all sleeping in the living room, your apartment has too many weak points to keep track of.”

Rolling your eyes in spite of the soft smile on your face, “Mateo's right, you do worry too much.”

You two were just beginning to walk again when the elevator dinged and a delivery girl from the Shwarma place stepped out. You weren't a regular on her deliveries but she lived in the building so she knew you by sight.

“Hey got your order right here, havin' a party tonight?”

“Thanks Cayenne, no 've got family over.” patting yourself down you come to find your wallet isn't n you.

Before you can ask her to follow you to your apartment the man beside you steps in, tipping the woman and attempting to take the bags.

Cayenne looks back at you confused, once you nod she takes the tip and hands the bags right over.

“See you around.” she calls already waiting on the elevator.

“Have a good shift!”

Getting through the door you turn to Jake fumbling with the bags.

���Thanks for reminding me, so how much do I owe you for dinner Jake?”

The man freezes and his eyes dart to the side as he bites his lips. It's what makes you notice the change in posture, how he seems shorter than he was back in the hallway.

“Oh! Sorry, hey there Steven.”

Steven's chest puffs out a bit and his head stans a little higher when you correct yourself. Heart racing at the thought of you being able to tell them apart already, to see them differently even without speaking. He pushes down the insulting quip about it only being because of how pathetic he must be compared to how calm and sauve Jake had been with you. Meanwhile he couldn't even juggle the take away properly.

“No worries mate.” voice cracking up a bit as he attempts to be causual.

He coughs then searches for a place to put the bags down. With soft eyes and a softer smile playing at your face you sigh, watching the man awkwardly shuffle his way through your entry way.

“You can just put those down on the coffee table Steven, we'll do family style tonight. I'll be right there, just need to grab plates.”

Coming back out to the table with plates and drinks for everyone you notice Mateo going through your DvD collection.

“We told him we'd watch a movie after dinner, that's alright right?” Steven asked you with a frown that had him biting his lip just the smallest fraction.

Checking the time you frown a little yourself, “Maybe not after dinner, we could watch it while we eat. It's just, it's nearly sic and I'd just about bet someone's bedtime is eight thirty at the latest.”

It's difficult to lie when three sets of eyes catch him jump at being found out. At least Mateo had the decency to send an apologetic look Steven's way.

“Cheeky.” he mutters staring his son down, one of the things that stands out to him is Mateo has the same charmingly disarming smile Marc does. The smile that's reserved for joking with the elderly women in the park on his morning jogs or sent Steven's way when he gets the brunt of a prank meant for Jake.

Steven's face goes from annoyed and impressed to sheepish and sullen when he switches his attention from Mateo to you.

“Sorry, I hadn't even thought-”

Holding a hand up to the brit, “It's fine Steven, we haven't talked about this. But I know basic child development, and if I'm gonna be strict about anything it'll be bedtimes.” honing in on Mateo, “You sir already have a predisposition towards sleeping disorders, we don't need to go agitating any hereditary insomnia just yet.”

“Yes zazi, I know.” he turns his back to you and continues his search it looks like he has a specific movie in mind. Just before you can ask he lifts a box straight into the air high above his head.

“Oh what'd he pick?” Layla asks pausing her task of setting out the food.

“Night at the Museum.” you say confidently not even taking a second glance as you help her finish, you'd know that box anywhere.

Mateo nods handing the DvD to Steven to set up, “It's really good for it's age-”

“Watch it.” you warn.

He giggles as he whispers up to Steven, “plus zazi has a crush on Ahkmenrah.”

Steven bristles a little at that, not quite sure how he should feel about his future spouse crushing on another man. He knows it's silly and irrational but you aren't even together and it feels like he doesn't have a complete chance with you.

Layla raises an eyebrow at you to which you make a face in confusion, not like you have any idea what the two were whispering about.

After helping Steven set up the movie you all fell into a nice little repreive. It was kind of surreal how familiar watching a movie and eating dinner felt with the three new additions in your life. Mateo and Layla each even took turns ripping up falafel to feed Coo. The evening was filled with laughter and Steven's quips about the awful Egyptian lore. Everyting felt so domestic and it made you miss your family. You hadn't thought about them since just after everyone was snapped back. It stung a bit but looking around your coffee table you decided that if this was your new family it seemed like a pretty great one. You just hoped you could talk to Marc soon, he's the only one who hasn't offically met Mateo. To say ir worried you would be a massive understatement.

The movie is just at it's climax where Nick and Larry are trapped with Ahkmenrah, “Oh lovely fent he is innt he?” Steven snorts.

His sarcastic mumbling had you choke on your drink, not expecting that from the soft spoken clerk. But you wait and watch as the wrappings on the mummy unwind to reveal Rami Malek's gorgeous face.

“Oh very lovely.” Layla says with approval at Rami on the screen while sipping on her drink.

Steven just scowls a bit, pouting at the attention the actor is getting from the two of you. Through the reflection in the picture frame next to him you see Jake's face also screwed up in distaste. Or you assume it's Jake.

“It's probably just the accent.” you joke grabbing Steven's hand under the table.

The other two are none the wiser about the hand holding and you focus on the screen as Steven and possibly Jake stare at you in a mixture of emotion. A whirlwind so complex they aren't even really sure what they're feeling. Either way Steven relaxes.

“A lil' on the posh side though.” he jokes.

“Yea...probably a Chelsea fan.” that comment earns you a delightful chuckle from the man.

And you all finish the movie in peace. Once it's over Layla and Steven take charge of cleaning the table off as you and Mateo set the living room up for a sleepover. It's a mad dash through the apartment, grabbing all available pillows and blankets – it's either gonna be a nest or a pillow fort tonight or both.

[lovely-necromancy]

The Moon and the Stars ch 4

Pairings: Mark Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader, Jake Lockley/Reader

Warnings: Swear words, inaccurate DID

Word count: 6,153

Marc had taken over fronting by the time the three of you had walked from the parking garage over to Nelson and Murdock. Jake apparently taking a back seat now that he wasn't needed to drive. It seems like a strange trade off but you also dislike driving and wouldn't mind having someone to take care of that for you. Though you're a little more than envious that each of them seemingly get to – for the lack of a better term, stop existing for a bit. Passing over the reigns when things get too much or they aren't needed in the moment.

Not that you think it's easy by any means to live with their condition or in their situation at all. You just find existing difficult to do constantly for something that seems to go on for so long. Maybe that's the reason people pair off in sets you'd get someone to do things you dislike; like doing the dishes and as a trade off they'd find cooking to be a chore and you'd gladly take over that. Or even having someone like Jake to drive for those few times that you had to.

Unlike Jake, Marc doesn't walk behind you and Layla to keep an eye out for you, something you're very grateful for since it gives you a rest from the searing feeling of eyes on your back. Instead Marc walks beside you and it's only when he catches sight of the marquee as you pass it, that he steps ahead of you making sure he holds the door for both you and Layla.

“Thank you.” slips out from habit, but you're no less appreciative of his chivalrous gesture.

Your voice catches Foggy's attention, he unfurrows his brow as he fiddles with the furniture parts laying around him.

“I told Matt to lock the door.” he mutters to himself sounding miffed.

You lock the door and motion for Layla and Marc to take seats in the waiting area, as they warily eye the man's tense posture.

“I promise he doesn't bite, anyway seems he's occupied.” you say oblivious to the agitation of the strawberry blonde on the floor, and the glare he's giving you.

Foggy flips you off as he double checks the instructions, “And definitely not in the mood for your shit.”

His tone rolls right off of you as you walk to hover in front of him. His jaw clenches and relaxes the clenches back up again, like he's biting his tongue to stop himself from saying something. You are too busy looking at the upside down booklet to notice any of his out of place mannerisms.

“What's this anyway?” you ask crouching down across from him, still reading the booklet.

“Fish tank.” tone short and clipped.

“Duh, why are you getting fish though?” tilting your head as your eyes rest on him.

“Jesus, because waiting areas have fish in them!” he snaps.

You held his gaze for a moment and wait for his shoulders to relax before speaking. But he goes back to the two pieces of wood that look like they are the same, and probably aren't meant to connect like he's attempting.

“Like who's gonna take care of them though? Y'know cleaning and stuff, you guys don't really have a secretary not to mention Matt's liable to suck a fish into a siphon while cleaning if he tried.”

The attempted ice breaker falls on deaf ears as Foggy ignores you, in favor of flipping back a page in the booklet.

“So...” you draw out the word until he looks at you brow hunched downward and lips off set in a semi snarl, “What fish are you getting?”

Foggy's exclamation of  'God Dammit' and throwing down the pieces of wood in a huff have Marc and Layla leaping from their seats. Layla hovering next to you, ready to pull you behind her and Marc standing in front of you both.

Marc throws a pointed look at you from over his shoulder, “I think you've done enough, now sit.” he orders pointing towards the seat he had occupied just seconds ago.

Your face scrunches up at that and Foggy's does too.

“Hey man, don't talk to them like that.”

“We came to ask you a few questions, not to antagonize you. We just want some answers then we'll be on our way.” Marc explains.

Foggy looks your way catching your eyes and you see the storm cloud swirling in them. The same concern and question Marnie's held not even an hour ago. The questions and uncertainty getting darker and heavier the longer you don't say anything. You thump your foot down in a mix of frustration and annoyance.

“Will you shut up,” you direct at Foggy, “this is Layla, that's Marc. And we're all gonna be friends in the future...I think. Nothing nefarious.”

Again Foggy looks at you, this time with a questioning look that makes you think you've said something wrong. But you aren't sure what exactly, maybe adding 'nothing nefarious' seemed nefarious in itself.

“Shit kid, is this why Matt and I got weird half texts from you?” Foggy groans out.

“They weren't half texts, I thought they made perfect sense.”

“Yea, only after we put our texts together, you set up a puzzle for us. You really need to learn how a group chat works or how to string together a coherent thought.”

“Uggh, I know how group chats work I just hate them...” tossing your head back with a groan, “Anyway you guys figured it out.”

“That's not the point, I was worried something happened.” the air feels heavier as Foggy's real meaning hits you.

Taking a moment you're sure he meant 'I thought you disappeared again' and that throwing out 'technically something did happen' wasn't the best choice right now. Especially with how fried his nerves must be. Looking off to the side you rub at your elbow sheepishly.

“I wasn't thinking...”

It was mumbled but it was as close to an apology as Foggy would get, begrudgingly he'd accept it; he always did. Sighing he harshly rubbed a hand down his face before composing himself and sighing.

“I swear, between you and Matt I'll go gray before the end of the decade.”

“Pfft, I can make it the year.”

That comment gets you a stern look like a father reprimanding his child, it leaves you grinning like a fool at Foggy. He turns his attention to Marc, “What'd you need to ask?”

“Have you seen a....uh?” Marc struggles to find a way to phrase it without making him sound insane, “Hell, you made this seem so fucking casual when you found us.” he only gets a shrug in return. Layla looking just as lost as he is when Marc looks to her for clarification.

Seeing this won't get you guys far you take over for Marc, a small mercy for everyone, “A kid, specifically my son from the future who can time travel, you seen him? Maybe Matt has an idea?”

It takes a moment of staring at you slack jawed and a bit of rapid blinking for Foggy to fully process what you've just said. And once he does he throws his hands up in the air, as if pleading with the gods for one mundane moment in life.

“Why am I even fucking surprised anymore, honestly just why?”

He distracts himself by looking over the pictures for the cabinet stand of the aquarium, before speaking up, “I haven't seen any terror running around. Assuming we are keeping this under wraps, because of a certain local DnD reject.”

The insult earns a snort from you and a grinning nod.

“Naturally.”

Shaking his head Foggy continues, “The Matt wouldn't have mentioned anything to me if he did know something. He did mention that...that...news kid...uh the one with the nice-ish camera?”

Seeing Foggy struggle on the name of the photography intern working with Karen at The Bugle, you fill in the blank.

“Parker.”

He really didn't need to look up to know what expression you held. And seeing the sullen look fills him with overwhelming guilt over not remembering such a simple name, though he vaguely remembers it isn't his fault in the first place. Still he mutters 'Parker, Parker' under his breath a few times trying to commit it to memory. Despite the fact you both know he'll eventually forget again. Just like all the other times.

“Yea...Parker. Matt said he nearly crashed into the kid on his walk to your place that first night. Says he was a mess...more so than usual.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “Not surprised, asked him to look after Coo for me.”

“Shit, that devil bird is still alive?”

“And well – thanks for asking.” he rolls his eyes at you.

“Anything else you needed?” his eyes roaming the schematics before him.

“Will Matt be back soon?”

Foggy just offers you a non-committal noise, not even bothering to look up from the new piece of wood he's grabbed, “He went to the library; been a slow week and he wanted a few audio books.” his eyes flit over to you briefly, “Apparently the 17th Street Library doesn't offer a delivery service, who knew?”

You hum once again, “Yea we don't – just something I did to keep things in circulation. Same with the free libraries we have stationed around. Plus you trust Matt in a library?”

He gives an 'alright' motion with his head. When he doesn't speak again you take that as the end of the conversation and look towards Marc and Layla, you motion them to the door.

“Thanks Foggy, promise to keep you updated...but probably not today though my phone's dead.”

“For the love of – here you two take a business card, my personal number is the first just hit six as an extension. If this idiot gets themselves – or you into any trouble just call.” Layla takes the cards and smiles at him, glancing sideways at you.

“Reassuring that they have good friends, I've known them less of a day and can already tell they're quite the handful.” her voice is full of mirth as she speaks.

Whereas Foggy's is filled with exhaustion when he replies, “Like you wouldn't believe.”

Once she catches up with you and Marc outside the door she asks, “Where to now?”

“Library.” you say simply.

“Foggy said Matt should be there – operative word being should. Doesn't hurt to look; if he's there we can ask if he's noticed anything strange around my apartment.”

You're a little surprised when Jake doesn't take over for driving instead letting Marc stay in command of the body. You have no clue how long the boys will be in your life but since they seem close to Layla it wouldn't hurt to look into DID after everything gets back to some form of normalcy. It could help you understand the trio a little better and make sure you aren't sticking your foot in your mouth around them constantly, that would be embarrassing.

You notice Marc waits for you and Layla to put your seat-belts on before he starts the car, unlike Jake who would start the car the moment he got in but refused to move until seat-belts were secured.

Marc turns to face you, Layla makes a similar move in the passenger's seat to stare back at you. It's a bit disconcerting and makes you feel like you're being taken about under a microscope. Sweat builds in the palms of your hands and your stomach feels like it's taken up macrame.

“Ok, look we've been trying it your way since we stepped foot off the plane – and to be honest we're getting no where.” Marc speaks unknowingly breaking you from the build up of an anxiety attack. Distracting you from the twisting and twirling of your stomach.

You just offer a mute nod at his pause, not sure if he wants you to speak or just listen.

Sighing he continues, “We need to think of an actual game plan. Something more than aimlessly searching in possible areas. It's taking way too long – especially the way we're going about it now; it could be too late when we do find him. He's what seven? I don't know many kids who can be out on the street for days on end without any sort of help or being nabbed.”

“I don't know what you're expecting from me. This is literally the only idea I've had.” you jump to your defense.

“Well,” Layla speaks up with a thoughtful look on her face, “you said you had a few other crime fighting friends. Could they help?”

It's a good suggestion and an earnest one but you'd be giving up a lot of identities if you did get more heroes involved. You bite your lip and find a loose thread to play with on your jeans. This was the problem with having vigilantes in your corner, even when you got some of them together for a common goal things were bound to get messy. Personalities and morals tend to clash at some point and it's a security issue to have so many people know what face to put with the name.

“I can't out them like that, or you two for that matter. A lot of them would be able to pin Scarlet Scarab and Moon Knight on to the two of you the second you showed your masked faces.”

“Listen, you don't need to give us names or home addresses. Call them, send a text. Anything to get the word out for more eyes looking for this kid.” Marc's response comes off a little rough but you can tell he's trying to be reassuring.

You pull out your phone, “Nice idea and all but my phone's still dead.” you make a show of pushing the on button.

Layla turns back around with a frown. Her brown eyes skim the below street before landing on a corner store. She barely utters out 'wait here' before she's sprinting to it leaving you and Marc in the car.

“Layla!” Marc tries to get her attention but she's a woman on a mission.

He slumps in his seat and closes his eyes as the bridge of his nose wrinkles up. You watch silently from the rear view mirror. A familiar feeling eating away at you.

You can't help but sigh as you think about what just took place in Nelson and Murdock. You really don't think a lot of things through and act recklessly. This past week alone you made Foggy and probably Matt worry, forced an added responsibility onto Peter, and got Layla and the system wrapped up in this time traveler hunt. Marc especially; the man had to deal with getting bullied in his own body by his patron of sorts. It's understandable that he's so frustrated, and he is right about the search and how it's going. You aren't too proud to admit you don't know what you're doing.

“Hey Marc,” he glances up into the mirror to lock eyes with you, it nearly makes you loose your nerve but after a moment you continue after breaking eye contact, “Sorry for dragging you guys into this. I'm not really sure what to do in this situation. I may be on good terms with a few vigilantes but...I've never been on this side of the mission before. As soon as we find the kid you don't have to stick around. I know what Khonshu said but future me only said I needed Layla's help finding the kid not sending him home.”

When your eyes lock again you see that the stern look in his eyes had softened a bit, the crease in his forehead and nose were gone. The man in the driver's seat was still tense but he looked like he wasn't as stressed as a moment before.

He doesn't say anything though and you're both left in comfortable silence as you wait for Layla to return. It isn't a long wait though and she returns with a car charger in hand.

“Here give me your phone, I figured that mini mart down there would have even a crappy portable charger for us to use.” you hand over your phone easily and she plugs it in.

Once everyone's buckled up again, Marc drives out to the library.

“Hell's kitchen more like Hell's parking lot. Where the fuck do you even go – what's that guy doing...is that even legal?!” Marc's been ranting for three minutes on the lack of parking, you really want to suggest he let Jake take control since he hadn't had an issue – though if you're being fair Jake had a parking garage near the firm. So instead you keep your mouth shut.

“Marc look to the right, what about there – think it's a spot?”

Your eyes land on the section Layla's talking about, it's an open area near a cafe on the other side of the street. By the time you spin around to get to it, it'll be taken.

“Nah, just keep straight we've gotta hit something on this side at some point.”

“How the hell do you live here?” you just shake your head before going back to your phone and texting Matt.

Marc's eyes are focused on the road and scanning the area like a hawk for any opening. Actively cursing Jake out for his stupid idea to rent a car in a city where parking isn't always available; when a flash of tan and orange catches his eye. A fluffy tabby just sitting proud and tall on the black top near the edge of the side walk. The cat looked like it was waiting for something and no one seemed to notice it. One thing Marc did notice was the spot it was in was large enough for the van to pull into. Hoping the cat wouldn't have a fearless attitude and would move on once the car came near he made move to take the spot.

The cat elegantly stood up and hopped onto the side walk and sat patiently staring up into the windows. Layla having seen the whole thing eyes the cat carefully and didn't make any moves to get out of the car.

“Is it me or it that cat...waiting for something?” she asks not taking her eyes off the long haired tabby.

“It's still over there?” Marc asks as he unbuckles his seat-belt and tries to crane his neck to see over her window.

Looking up from your phone you notice the cat.

“Oh don't worry, that's Horus, he's like the library's pet. Probably hunting for someone to let him back in. Foot traffic's slow this time of day.” you scoot towards the right hand door and step out.

You catch Steven's mirthful musing of 'a cat named after a bird and god of the sky', just before you step fully out of the van. The second you're out Horus comes over brushing up against your legs and cooing up at you. You squat down as Layla and Marc get out and come up to the two of you. Upon seeing the new arrivals Horus goes right on up to Layla and brushed up against her without even sniffing. She passes the vibe check, honestly it's hard to fail a Horus vibe check – you've only seen it happen a few times. Made sure to stay clear of those few.

“Aww he's cute. He just lives at the library?” Layla asks scratching the top of his head and looking at you.

“Pretty much. His decision. We've tried to take him home a few times but he's thrown genuine hissy fits when taken away from the area, or even brought into one of those apartments about three blocks back.” The cat didn't have a mean bone in his body but the second you tried taking him way from the library he turned down right feral.

Marc's hands ball up at his sides and twitch occasionally as he unclenches and clenches his fists. He stiffens when Horus locks on to him and walks away from you and Layla to rub all over Marc's jeans. You smile knowingly because Horus is known for finding cat lovers and milking all the attention he can get. It's always a treat to see how fast big tough grizzly men fall to the feet of the overly friendly cat. Meanwhile Layla is surprised to see just how friendly the cat is with Marc, she knows most animals have a weird reaction to the system. It's the main reason Steven keeps a goldfish, despite suspecting all three men have a love for cats.

But watching the man now even he was surprised at the cat currently loving all on him. You however took his shock as nerves. “Don't worry he's super friendly. He normally does this when he wants to be held. Just pick him up like you would burp a baby. He'll be in heaven.”

Marc opens his mouth to say something before his jaw clicks shut and he goes stiff before swooping in and picking up Horus, just  like you said to. His hand even went behind the cat's ears and began giving them a good scratching. Horus of course ate up all the attention and was purring up a storm, just watching the two left you grinning. You loved this cat dearly and would never get tired of watching him shamelessly beg for affection.

Layla was also left smiling knowing that the system was probably having the time of their lives. She'd have snagged a picture if she knew Marc or Jake wouldn't ruin the moment after she got caught.

When Marc spent a few minutes longer than anyone else would spend holding Horus you figured all the men were taking their turns with the cat. A cat who certainly didn't mind all the attention, furthering your belief that he is a ragdoll mix of some sort. But you were still technically on a mission and needed to move things along.

“Alright let's get a move on, Horus wants in the library so you can just keep holding him till one of you gets tired with this arrangement you've got. Fair warning Horus never gets tired.” the small tease you threw in was so worth it to see the way those brown eyes lit up and glittered with excitement.

It was a pure unadulterated joy that shone through and it warmed your chest to see, the added endearment of Horus purring so loudly was nearly drowning you in a wave of unending cuteness. The scene so sweet you were sure to be left with a mouth full of cavities, your molars practically tingled at the thought.

This time you held the door open for Layla and Marc who was still holding Horus. Stepping through the door you took out you phone to check if Matt replied yet. Though it was useless to check when a soft muted tapping sound reached your ears. Barely glancing up you spot Matt on his way over to the three of you. Layla noticing his approach and thinking you were too involved with your phone to notice the blind man walking towards you gently grasp your arm and guides you off to the side of the entrance. You send a small questioning glance her way, confused by her actions, before Matt gets close enough to tap the end of his cane with your shoe. He does it a few more times, like he always did; you think he just does it to get a laugh out of you.

It doesn't fail to make you smile, your head snapping and shaking a little at a stim from the sudden burst of excitement. Even though he can't see your reaction when he hears the small laugh that leaves you he smiles.

Such a dork.

“There you are, I'd ask what took so long but I can hear someone's powered up Horus.” Matt says bringing his cane back up.

“Yea, we got jumped the second we stepped out of the car.” you pause before starting in on the introductions, “Oh, by the way these are my new friends Layla,”

She takes your pause as her cue to speak, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, sorry you've been dragged around by this one.” he taps you again with his cane, then sticks his hand out for her to shake.

“It's certainly been...an experience. Also this is Marc, his hands are full at the moment.” she says taking Matt's hand.

When Marc doesn't say anything you look over, a little nervous that he may not be the one fronting at the moment. You aren't sure who's fronting at the moment, their focus is entirely on the cat in their arms.

Looking back to Matt you can see the wrinkling of his forehead, he must have heard the tremor of anxiety in your heartbeat. Or did he hear some sort of internal shift with the system, did each man have a different heartbeat? It wouldn't be too strange if they all breathed differently, that may be more plausible than a change in heartbeat.

“Sorry seems he's preoccupied with Horus, you know how it is.” you joke, trying to seem like you aren't worried but you can never fool Matt.

A part of you wonders if you should have prepared them for meeting Matt; though you trust Matt to not say anything hell the man knows all heroes in the city and their identities and has never uttered a word to Foggy or you – the one who at least knows three mutual acquaintances of his. But right now you aren't sure if Matt is even able to tell of a shift in the system, or if it's something else he's concerned about. You aren't too personable so it isn't often you're found traveling with strangers. And who knows what Foggy may have told him.

Keeping information from your friends really hurts your head. It'd be so much simpler if everyone knew the vigilante thing and the DID thing but none of those tidbits of information are yours to share, so hidden they stay. Navigating the social structure of who'll be mad when everything inevitably comes out is so tedious and is starting to make you more than a little queasy.

“Can't blame him, Horus is a charmer.”

It may be you projecting but the way Matt says him makes you suspect he already knows. When will this man figure out he's not gonna get away with everything just because he's blind, there's only so many times 'just a hunch' will work for him. Matt's like the worst liar you know; it's really surprising Spiderman and Deadpool haven't figured out who he is yet...it's a bit obvious with the context.

“Oh and here I thought I was special.” Marc sasses the tabby to only get a head bonk in return.

Your lung feel like they can work properly again.

Marc smiles at the cat before putting him down on the floor, trying to get back on track. Only for Horus to keep demanding his attention by rubbing between his legs whilst purring like a little steam engine and flopping over exposing his belly. Tempting Marc in for more pets.

Marc has to stay strong, no matter how much Jake begs to pet the cat one more time.

'It's never just one more, with you and a cat Jake.'

'Bitch.'

Marc greets Matt, eyes raking over the other man, locking onto his cane and giving a side glance towards you for a moment. Your poker face is decent but your eyes show you're nervous clearly.

Matt's head tilts to the side ear closest to you turned slightly higher with a small twitch as he picks up the increase pulsing of your heartbeat. He suspects you may have said a few things that just didn't add  to your new companions.

“I think you'd like to know I nearly tripped on a misplaced book coming to meet you.”

Breaking you from your spiral you can only groan out, “Parker?”

Matt chuckles, “Probably, semester just started after all. I assume that's why you divvied up the house sitting.” Matt of course catches the way Layla's breath evens out and tension leaves Marc.

You mutely nod before answering, “Yea, that and the kid needs the money, he's too proud to take it without working.” you sigh before asking, “Science section?”

“Surprisingly.” Matt chuckles lifting his hand out in front of him again.

You easily guide it to your elbow for him to grasp and say, “Come on then.” Layla and Marc follow close behind.

Once you get to the aforementioned section you just have to follow the trail of chaos towards an isle that reveals the disheveled brunette.

“Peter Parker, you are aware we have tables, right? And please at least put back the books when you're done skimming. I've lost track of how many times I've told you this.” you sigh looking at his mess. A mix of workbooks, textbooks, notebooks, two library issued ipads and library books strewn about haphazardly.

“He-hey, you're back, that was quick. Wha – no when'd you get tables here, fancy.” he whistles out the last word but it dies down as he sees your unamused expression.

“C'mon no one comes down these isles we both know that, plus I'm still using these see – marked my place in those.” he gestures to a couple of books by your feet and you can see the cheap pale sticky notes marking various spots in the books.

Your shoulders relax as you look at the man just a few years younger than yourself. Hair a mess, clothes wrinkled with crumbs of his morning bodega breakfast sandwich still on them. You know school's been far from rough for the kid despite going through his second semester of college alone and his extra circulars. All this studying is for his own personal projects, he's been trying his hardest to follow in his mentor's footsteps. It breaks your heart because the kid could've had so much better, could be doing bigger better projects had things gone a little differently. Had they actually been worked out.

Sighing you hold out the hand that wasn't attached to the arm Matt was holding, “Gimme your phone, I still owe you for babysitting. How was he?” Peter's hazel eyes look at you with confusion, you normally lecture him a bit more so the sudden change is a bit jarring but he's not about to complain. Handing you his phone without question you open it to your account to transfer a little more than what you promised him for watching your bird. Before closing out and handing it back to him.

“Oh yea, no, he was fine. Was kind of a shock to find him just like in the middle of your apartment though. Really freaked me out, was not expecting that you know, a warning woulda been nice.”

You snort a bit, Coo had been messing with the lock of his cage for a few weeks now so of course he'd finally pick it when you were gone. Looks like you'll have to switch his lock, again.

“Honestly thought it was weird you hadn't just taken him with you, but we figured things out eventually. He's very smart and pretty independent which has been fantastic – don't get me wrong though I still left him with May when I went to class. Also she's gonna have several questions for you next time she sees you.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, “Peter you didn't have to do all that, I'm sure he would've been fine on his own for a bit. Is he with May now, I can probably swing by and pick him up later tonight...maybe I have some things to take care of still – so like technically not back yet.:

Peter blinks owlishly at you before his face contorts into a confused shock, “uuhm – now I have several concerns. But no he's not with May. I thought he could use sometime out of the apartment and brought him out here with me. “

“Like to the library?” he nods confused by your confusion, “Peter, why would you bring a pigeon into the library?”

It takes a moment for Peter to respond, his brain slowly catching up to the train you'd just been on, before dropping the bomb.

“I – are you talking about Coo? I was suppose to be watching your bird?!”

When it sunk in that Peter hadn't been talking about Coo you took off. Leaving the group behind without a single word. Matt had felt the shift in your muscles just before you ran and had let go, not wanting to get dragged down in your haste or slow you down. Peter scrambled to get off the floor and to follow after you, and while Layla had taken the time to guide Matt, Marc was running close behind you. Not wanting to loose sight in case something happened.

The library was fairly large and the children's section was on the second floor so you'd had to run up a flight of stairs. He had been right under your noses for a full twenty minutes and you weren't about to loose him. Though it was frustrating to know that he'd just been with the Parkers for the past few days you were relieved to know he hadn't been in any danger. Stars knew the crimes May would commit to keep a child safe, and a child she deemed family even more so.

Speeding to the children's section you round the decorative archways, letter blocks with open books tilted on to a tip, to find the small isles empty. The stage bare and quiet, it was a school day in the middle of fall so it wasn't unusual. As you stepped further inside and checked the homework station you still turned up empty. It was when you passed on of the smaller reading nooks, meant on for a single kid, that you spotted him.

In your rush you'd almost flown by him, your sudden stop almost had Marc careen into you. When he caught your line of sight he froze. There he was tucked into the reading nook, all cozy in his red and blue windbreaker that matched the primary colored walls surrounding him. But his warm toned golden skin and dark curls stuck out to you.

You took in every aspect of him that you could, you had never seen this child before and you worked near exclusively in this department of the library for the last three years. From the moment you saw the concentrated look on his face as he read you felt as if you'd known him forever. There was a stinging behind your eyes and a weight in your chest – you'd been detached from this mission until this moment. Everything was hitting you all at once, it finally felt real and you felt acutely aware of the world actively spinning around you the moment his large brown eyes met yours.

His eyes widening at your sudden appearance, book forgotten as it threatened to slip out of his hands, but he made no move to move or say anything. A growing fear was visible on his face as his eyes flickered between the two of you, an anxiety that was eating away at him with every passing second that you stayed quiet. You could see it in the way he curled into himself to make himself smaller.

It all washed away when you whispered a single word, a name.

“Mateo.”

His reaction was instant, as he leapt off the seat and ran towards you. Tears budding and spilling out of his eyes as he ran into your arms and wept. For you it had been a few days of knowing about and searching for a future you didn't know for him it'd been the first time he'd seen a parent in days, it didn't matter to him that you didn't actually know him yet – all that mattered was you were here. You meant safety and comfort to him, and soon he'd be back home in his own time.

By the time Layla, Matt, and Peter arrived to this hidden little corner they were met with you gently swaying side to side with a crying child buried deep in your arms. An anxious and faint looking Steven standing awkwardly to the side, who kept stealing glances at you and the child before swallowing hard and looking at anything else. Only to steal more glances every few seconds.

“Is this a bad time to bring up that your pigeon did bite me?”

[lovely-necromancy]

The Moon and The Stars Ch2

Pairings: Marc Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader, Jake Lockley/Reader

Word count: 6128

Content: gn!reader, autistic!reader, autistic!Marc/Jake/Steven, magic, slowish burn, show and comic depicted DID

You were on your way to Steven's – well the system's flat, Layla had managed to give you a basic run down on the boys' condition. And the arrangement they'd formed, a system that shares and co-fronts a single body instead of mad grabs for control that end up with someone blacking out during high stress situations. It may have been a little insincere but you couldn't help but be fascinated with them and their situation, three separate individuals leading their lives through one body. You made a mental note to do a bit of research into dissociative identity disorder; all you could really remember from your psychology class back in high school was how confident your teacher had been saying it didn't really exist and was more of an ailment attention seekers made. That had always rubbed you the wrong way, if it wasn't a “real” condition as he'd put it then there wouldn't have been a need to name it. Just furthered your belief that people are so quick to shoot down what they don't understand.

After Steven had finished his shift he'd lead you through the streets of London back to his building. Along the way you'd been relaying the bits and pieces of information you gathered on the time traveler.

“Wait – sorry back up, how d'you know he's autistic?” Steven stops you mid sentence.

Layla looks over at Steven exasperated, “Seriously Steven, that's the part you're stuck on. Not the time traveling seven year old on the loose?”

“I mean it's just this is a very strange situation to be involved with yea, lot stranger than what we normally handle. Don't get me wrong 's a lot nice than them too but...just...it's all...and then you,” you're walking backwards as you look at both of them, using your force field to nudge any on coming pedestrians out of your way.

Steven's impressed by the complete nonchalance you exude – he hears Marc's bubbling paranoia over it, Jake silent like usual. It's Jake's silence that puts him at ease, ironically, as though the protector of the system being keen with this situation somehow makes it bearable, less bonkers. Though he wishes he could have your level of confidence in all this, being able to go with the flow so instinctively that he and Layla seem to be along for the ride.

“Your future self told you he's autistic but never mentioned a location.” he's got an adorable pout on his face as his eyes dart to Layla's then back to you, “'s a bit fishy, innit?”

You can only offer a shrug to the confused Brit, “They never said explicitly he was autistic, I honestly just assumed. Which let's be real, long run is better to anticipate dealing with an autistic time traveling seven year old so we don't accidentally overwhelm him and trigger him to jump to another time.”

“Ok, no you do have a point, but what're the odds he's actually autistic?”

You stop walking, “Bruh I flunked statistics, but I'm autistic and from an experience standpoint I only date neurodivergent people so chances are pretty high. Even if I'm the only parent who's autistic that's still a huge likely hood given genetics.”

“You're autistic? You don't...you carry yourself...” his words fall flat because he isn't sure what he's trying to say.

“I get what you mean, and ditto dude.” you nod before looking behind you and facing them again, “Soooooo am I still in leading us for some reason?”

“Oh right, sorry. This way then.” Steven rushes in front guiding you to his flat, properly this time, you wait for Layla to move before falling into step with her.

Once the three of you are up in Steven's flat you can relax a little – not having to worry about stray pedestrians hearing some off remark from you three.

Layla pushes one of Steven's stray chairs from beneath the window over to the area with two other chairs – and one very cluttered desk. As you watch her move you can't help but notice how overflowing the small studio was with books. Books were practically coming out of the walls, hell they may have been supporting the entire unit structurally at this point. Had it not been for the improper stacking of the books you would have thought it was a storage room for the library. But the books were all stacked horizontally, much higher than the nine inch guideline you live by, shelves were practically buckling under the weight of all the textbooks, novels, and guides. Seems the stand alone shelf in the middle of the room was a new installation to the space if it's sparse shelves and tilted books are anything to go by.

You'd ask if this man owned any bookends but figure by the sheer number of books that they'd be useless anyway.

Steven pulls you from your internal musings, turning your head slightly letting him know you're listening without having to directly face him.

“What else can you tell us about this time traveler. Do we have a name, a description, anything?”

It's a valid question, one you wish you had answers to; unfortunately you don't have any more insight than what you've already told them.

“Nuh uh, all the info I had on Layla was pretty sparse itself, took me a minute to even place she was in England. Not to mention there was no mention of you three.” you aren't really sure if you should mention the system as a whole or as an individual. But that's the least of your concerns right now, especially since they haven't mentioned how you address them.

There's no big cue to signal when the switch happened, nothing like Hollywood would have you believe. One moment you're talking to the sweet British gift shop worker and next you find yourself in an argument with a grizzled frustrated American.

“We don't even have any identifiers for this kid, how do you expect us yo find him?”

Hearing the rising tone you whisper sharply, “I figure I'll know him when I see him or he sees me or Layla he'll come right on out.”, hoping it'll lower his volume as well – it works the human brain is funny that way. Rewarding whisper with a whisper.

“What does that even mean?!” his hands come up in front of him to gesture as if he's holding an imaginary box in between them.

“It means he has to know us, trust me I work with kids and all it takes is for one familiar face to get them settled.” you give a calm down gesture with your hands.

Marc pinches the bridge of his nose, “To make this easier, can you at least contact yourself and get a name, a basic description?”

Marc is trying his best to be understanding, you're just really frustrating to work with. He feels like he's back at basic with guys who couldn't even understand the orders they were given.

Shaking you head you can only offer and apologetic smile, “Something's blocking the connection. And we don't need a name, like I said I'll know him when I see him...like seventy four percent sure.”

Yup, you're a dumbass.

“You have some type of description then, we could get police involved, have a search for a missing kid.” Layla chimed in.

“No, we really can't.” shaking your head again, “Think about it a time traveling kid. A defenseless seven year old. How many governments do you think would be after him, and let's not ignore the mutant factions who'd try to claim him. No one can know he's out here, they'll likely exploit his powers the second they get him – or worse torture him and dissect him to figure out how they work so they can manufacture some syrup to start passing out like candy. We think one traveler is bad, try self righteous bastards, or Hydra. The timeline would be fucking screwed.”

Both Marc and Layla share a look, it's clear to at least Layla that even the one time traveler has set the gods into a fit, the thought of any more unsettles her. While you gave little to the mission you at least brought  up the point neither of them would have thought of. It's a way to lock themselves back into the goose chase, finding the kid and getting everything back to normal was the only option. Everything else was just too much of a headache to even comprehend.

There was still a question she had about the whole thing, judging from the clenching of his fists Marc had it too.

“Why me?”

A thoughtful hum left you as you cleared some old mugs off Steven's desk and away from the books haphazardly strewn about – old forgotten tea and books were just asking for trouble.

“My guess is we're friends in the future, but it's most likely that you're a better witch than I am. So you'll be able to locate him in no time.” you say as if it's the most casual thing in the world while rinsing off mugs before setting them in the sink.

Marc is silent as his eyes dart from you to Layla, since you fist appeared you've just been spewing out wild nonsensical explanations – but calling Layla a witch, proclaiming to be one as well was by far the wildest thing he's ever heard.

“A what?”

Looking at the American you sent an apologetic grimace to Layla, “Op, sorry did they not know?”

Layla had to shake herself free from her own confusion before she could respond.

“Uh, no. Because I'm not a witch. Where'd you get that idea?”

Another look shared between the couple when a realization hit, did you know about Moon Knight and Scarlett Scarab?

Marc was on edge as your head tilts to the side, a small pout lining your lips. “If you aren't a witch why am I here?”

“That's what we want to know.” the scowl seems to be a permanent fixture on Marc's face.

Layla elbows her ex-husband, trying to get him to reign in his paranoia, at least be less hostile to the person calling themselves a witch in front of them. They have no idea what you're capable of, no sense in provoking you to show them when they have no divinity to help them out at the moment. Not to mention you're the only lead they have, and while you haven't been the most helpful she feels you've been genuine and gave up any and all information you knew to help.

“Well,” you sigh picking up your backpack, “things just got a lot more complicated. I've got to make a call and see if I can't get any more information.” when you reach for the door Marc is quick to keep it shut, boxing you in between him and the wall.

“You said something was blocking the connection, why would you suddenly be able to reach them now?” he doesn't need to say 'you aren't leaving my sight', you hear him loud and clear, so does Layla.

“Marc!” she at least makes a weak attempt to scold him but you can tell she shares his sentiment.

You spin to face him and look directly into his dark eyes.

“Look, I have awful social skills ad a monotone voice. Despite that I genuinely just want to get back to my level of normal, to do that I have to find this kid ok? I don't know why specifically Layla was pointed out to me if she wasn't a witch but now that means I need to ask a higher power for help. I really doubt you want me giving just anyone a free pass to trash your apartment.”

The hand keeping the door closed recedes; being so close to the body you can feel the shift in energy. Marc isn't in front of you anymore, neither is Steven. There's a slight warmth in those brown eyes now, not as light as when Steven held them and not as harsh as when Marc glared at you.

“You're right, we don't want that. You've got thirty minutes to make your call. Alley out back is low traffic, you won't get interrupted.” there's a hint of a threat in there, a predator just asking for you to give chase.

You nod “I'll buzz when I'm downstairs.” and with that you leave the flat.

Jake waits by the door and listens to the sounds of your footsteps growing distant. He waits until he hears the elevator open, close, and clunkily move down the shaft before he heads to the fridge and gets himself one of the beers he's stashed behind some of Marc's. He can feel Layla's eyes on him the entire way from the front door all the way to when he plops down in the chair she set in the “living room”.

“I asked, he can't find them. If they can get a better connection than the god of time fucking let them, be doin' us a favor.” the apartment falls silent as Jake sips his beer.

It was a kindness that he gave you thirty five minutes instead.

In the alley you were working quickly to set up a small summoning circle. Clearing away the debris and trash loitering the alley, even going so far as to bring out a small handheld dust pan from your bag to clean up the dirt from the pavement. Disposing the dust in one of the bins nearby you return to your work station; setting about the crystals and candles around you in a circle, bringing out the offering dish you realize you hadn't thought to bring a cup when you'd packed. Oh, well you've only been given thirty minutes and you weren't going to waster them on stressing over a cup – besides wine came in a glass bottle so that had to count for something. Placing the wrap on the dish and setting the wine beside it you lit the candles.

With everything in place you settle into the center of the circle; hands on your knees and eyes closed you begin to meditate. It never takes long for the fuzzy sensation of floating to take over, your feet somehow feeling as though they are flying over head and detached from your body despite the fact that they are tucked under you. The warmth from the candles fade around you, at some point the light stops dancing behind your eye lids, a harsh wind blows over you.

Eyes shooting open you're greeted with the dark and desolate space of the void. The inky black essence breathing, alive as it ungulates all around you – a movement you can see the presence of motion from but not any solid mass to discern it's pattern. You call it breathing though -easier to describe, and it's the only thing that fits this space.

“Hello?” you half expected an echo effect, the distortion ended up more like the pressure you'd feel if you tried to speak and listen to it under water.

“I'd like to speak to the god of time, Lord Khonshu. If he's available...” how does one call up a god?

Despite your lack of experience your projection does the trick, it's only a moment of waiting before you're staring face to beak with said god.

“Hmmmm, it's been some time since a witch has been so bold as to call on me by name.” he leans back to inspect you.

Walks around you giving himself a small idea of who's just petitioned him. He stops back where he started once again staring down at you.

“Would you like to continue your petition or shall I let you know that I am unfortunately very aware of the your little traveler.” His talons tap on his staff in agitation.

His attitude doesn't get to you, you used to be diner pals with Loki. The Norse god had often disguised himself and messed with you for being able to correctly identify him each time he was at the diner, you never got the chance to tell him it was purely his order that gave him away. You didn't see many other people order a ham and egg croissant with ketchup.

“Oh, well guess this makes things simple huh?” it's an awkward pause for you, the god before you is not amused, “I wanted to ask if you could help locate him?”

“Of course you do.” you're given the impression that he's just rolled his eyes at you even without eyeballs. Weird.

In the next moment he's in your face.

“What do you think I've been busy doing? I haven't been able to pin point the anomaly and couldn't fathom why...until you called for my aid. Now, witch, do you know why that may be?”

You look to the right, like someone would even be there to help you out with this, before looking back to the skull headed god.

“Be....cause he's from ...the future...?” you say unsure.

Khonshu stands to his full height and rubs his temples – his skull? Was a temple a muscle?

He mutters something that sounds an awful lot like 'incompetent mortals' and 'how was this the species that made it this far' a few odd swears following after. The god composes himself before tapping his staff on the air, causing a ripple of force that pushes you back onto your butt as he stride over to your fallen form.

“It would appear the child has a cloak around them. I wonder who's done that... ah ah ah that was rhetorical don't you dare try to answer it.” his tone is dripping with accusation and venom. He knew the answer to all of his frustrations the moment he took your call, now you just needed to undo your work so he could get on with his.

You frown, it's deep and scrunches up your nose as you spit back, “Of course he's cloaked. He's a time traveler. I'm not about to let someone find him and use his powers.”

“And if you don't break the cloak I can not locate him. We risk him falling into someone's grasp still.” the bite is far from gone in his tone, though it's nearly drowned in urgency instead.

“You have no guarantee that someone isn't already nearby and waiting for him. You may not get there in time once it's dropped. Not to mention, even if I tried, I” you stress the pronoun, “didn't make it. It's probably out of my control to break.”

Khonshu heaves a sigh as he straightens out his posture, crossing his arms giving you a look of disdain.

“You humans were too simple minded for magic. The abilities reside in you, they always have and always will. They aren't obtained over the years, you simply were born with it”

You roll your eyes and huff, “So I'm perfectly proficient in magic then?”

“Do not get smart with me witchling.” it isn't lost on you that he's referring to your skill level. “Your sass will be your undoing.” Khonshu threatens.

“Well it's not fair for you to just assume that I know what the hell I'm doing, it's not like I've had someone guiding me through any of this.”

“And yet you called me on your first try. You mortals are limited only by the doubts you've placed within yourselves. We may be able to come to...an understanding of sorts. I am protector of travelers and you offer protective magic. As it stands you are containing it; attempting to tame it. Sooner or later it'll need to expand from those confines – the moment it does I expect your pathetic vessel will pop like a grape in the desert heat.”

It catches you off guard the soft tone in his voice, this meeting hadn't been entirely hostile but it's giving off the energy of an older sibling arguing over the chore list with you before mom gets home. His warning does not go unheard.

“So...I what, offer you protection and you guide me through releasing that energy?”

He gives a small puff of air, you could easily confuse it for laughter, it came out more of a 'caw' sound, “I require no protection, least not from you, little witch. I do have an avatar that is lacking my protection; keep watch over him for now in my absence. But, yes I can aid you with coexisting with you magic.”

This is all giving you a huge headache. Marc thought you were talking in circles, he'd absolutely loose it during this conversation.

Waving him off with an open palm you move the topic along.

“Ok, ok. Now what can I do to get your help in getting this child back home?”

“I believe I have been more than clear that you are to remove your cloaking magic. Once I locate him I can send him back.” he says briskly towering over you once again; whatever soft moment you had apparently over.

His intimidation tactics won't work on you, and you just pouting won't get you any where.

“Let me rephrase the equation then, we have a child from the future running around because he came here on accident through use of his own gifts. If we want to prevent any future traveling accidents we should attempt to help him figure out how to go back on his own. So he can-”

“Yes, yes,” he snaps interrupting you, “so he can then rectify any further mishaps on his part. I am not one of your little charges witch, fix your tone when speaking to me.”

“And you are not the first god I've dealt with, you certainly are turning into the rudest.” you're matching his energy at this point, it might not be the smartest move but this void amplifies everything it takes in, emotions included.

“Your child has run a muck through time, and you are too stubborn to let me fix it and get things back into their natural order.”

“With a gift like his it should automatically constitute as being within the realm of natural order. And we really should be focusing on teaching him to fix his own mistakes. How else will he learn not to run a muck through your domain? No one needs a repeat of the battle on Titan.”

While his skull can't emote in a similar way to a human face you understand the expression. A sneer at the bitter reminder, one that relaxes with a harsh and forceful breath.

“It would seem...we have a common enough goal in mind, witchling.” he addresses you with a nod, righting himself again, “You find that little traveler of yours and I shall help to guide him to his rightful time.”

You weren't sure what to do exactly, this was your first petitioning of a god – so long as asking Loki not to pour ketchup all over your breakfast didn't count. But by the rules you'd looked up prior Khonshu had just established the terms of the petition, ones you agreed to. For formality's sake you nod and give a small bow.

The god huffs in amusement, “You'll have much to learn, for now we don't have the luxury to teach you. The effort – albeit minimal is appreciated.”

Looking up you eye the god warily, “You say that like we'll be working together often.”

“You carry term and raise a time traveler in the future, did you expect I won't be present?”

He's a sassy bird.

The words fall from your lips before you can register them, “You're very sassy for a god.”

“And you are very bold for such a little witch.” As rocky as this meeting had started it ended on a good note, if the humor in his the was anything for you to judge.

You make to look around and find your exit when your chin is forcibly grabbed. Khonshu leers at something on your face as he moves it all around eyes piercing one spot, like he's looking through you. “Seems your child is the least of my concerns, tell me did you know you reek of anomalies?” He doesn't care what you have to say, whatever it is he sees tells him everything he needs to know as he continues on without letting you speak, “From now on you're under my protection as well. Let's try and keep your travel limited.”

“That's been the plan since I got here.”

He lashes out at your vitriol, “Yes, and how many times was it the plan before now?” there's a brief moment of pity when you flinch at his words. He's right and you both know it; the pity is gone as soon as it came, he drops your face as if it burned him.

Looks like there isn't any time to waster in finding the time traveler.

“Take us to the idiots, the sooner we collect them the sooner the other gods stop prodding me for explanations.”

You assume he means to end the summoning and get you back in the mortal plane. Though the comment about idiots gets stuck in your head and you're left picturing Layla and the system despite your best efforts to empty your mind and ground yourself. Soon you're thinking about the absolute chaos that is Steven's apartment as Khonshu continues speaking to you instructing you on how to proceed with getting out. Weirdly a rush of cold air passes over you, and although you were so unfocused you find your self back from the void.

It's disorienting coming back from the inky black of the void. There's light, color, and sounds coming from all around; it's scary how not hearing the pulse of humming electricity moving in the walls can unsettle you. The real disorienting factor is that you aren't in the alley anymore, whipping your head around you see you're back in Steven's apartment. All the stimulation has your head reeling and unable to process what's going on.

First glance told you you were alone in the apartment, until you see the hulking figure of Khonshu sneering at the fish tank. Seeing his size and floating bird skull of a head in the context of the real world is very jarring and just overwhelms you more. Everything looks small in comparison to him, in the void you didn't have a frame of reference for his size or the difference between you as you were kept near eye to eye for much of the encounter. On this plane he was nearly twice your height, and very imposing to look at.

You could barely make out the drumming of footsteps in the hall paired with muffled voices before keys fit into the lock. Jake and Layla had gone out looking for you after those thirty five minutes only to turn up with an empty alleyway and your backpack. They'd been out for nearly two hours before Marc said they needed to head to the apartment and plan their next moves, he'd seen your passport and had the idea to go to Hell's Kitchen to see if they could figure out anything more about you or find another lead to this time travel case.

As they get into the apartment they stop in the door way to see you dizzy and sitting on the floor, at least that's the part Layla hones in on as she makes her way to you, cautiously.

“There you are, where'd you go? We've been looking all over for you.” she kneeled down to your prone form and tried to steady your tremors.

“Layla get them outside, they look like they could use some air.” Marc's eyes were set hard on Khonshu standing just away from you two.

The bird bristles at the impertinence, “Oh the little witch will be fine. They came searching for my aid, as this matter falls to my dominion.”

“Wait they called you, you called Khonshu seriously?” Marc switches his focus back to you who is starting to look a little more lively than before.

“If you'd said this was your contact I'd have told you he knew nothing.”

“You wouldn't have told them anything imbecile. You don't even trust them.”

Layla wants to tell the two to quit bickering because you look like you're about to pass out. But you beat her to the punch when you ask if Marc's the witch.

Khonshu's gaze peels off his avatar so he can focus on you, “Don't fret little witch, these four are merely avatars. No real power without help of the gods who lent them theirs. We'll go more in depth with your studies once this debacle is put to rest.” He focuses again on Marc, “They've agreed to aid in protecting you in my absence. As my Moon Knight I expect you to get moving soon.”

His posture is rigid and stiff as he asks the god, “Where are we going?”

You nod as best you can, there hadn't been any progress in finding the kid or pinpointing his location.

An unamused expression radiates from his features as Khonshu looks down to you specifically, “It seems you're just as brainless as me avatar. Witchling, time travel effects the when, not the where. So, given the nature of your relationship...where would our little traveler be?”

You hadn't thought of it like that, but now that he has it seemed so obvious even in your overstimulated state.

The answer was obvious and the weight hit you like a train.

“Fuck he's in Manhattan!”

Marc having watched the exchange couldn't help but feel this was one of Khonshu's set ups, everything was going too well and in the god's favor. “Good you know where he is, you'll be able to find him by yourself, get Khonshu to send him back. Layla and I can take you airport, have a nice trip.”

“Marc Spector, you will be accompanying the witchling on the endeavor, as I said I'm entrusting my Moon Knight to oversee any obstacles that may impede the witch. You aren't entirely useless without my aid are you?”

You look to Layla who's watching everything with a furrowed brow, she hasn't said anything so this may be a normal occurrence between the two.

“What if you just came with me?” you had only meant to ask the woman but drew the other's attention.

“Absolutely not!” you flinch at the raise in Marc's tone.

“The Scarlet Scarab falls under Taweret's divinity, while she's welcome to join your company – it's my knight that needs to go.”

“I don't see why, it seems you've got an excellent candidate for an avatar right there.” he motions for you.

Khonshu is clearly done with the argument when he summons his staff and slams it down onto the apartment floor much like he did in the void, only this time no one gets blown backwards. You notice Marc's body relaxes a bit from the strict and rigid stance he held.

“Jake, see to it the witchling finds the little time miscreant and makes sure nothing gets in the way of sending him back where he came from.” the man nods to the god.

Khonshu turns to you, “Should my knight be inaccessible for the duration of your endeavor call upon me directly.” you shakily nod, feeling sick in a new context after having watched an alter get bullied out.

The trip to the airport was silent. It seemed Jake didn't talk much and Layla was busy getting three tickets to Manhattan. By some fortune from the gods, probably Khonshu, you did get the tickets for the next flight, seats next to each other too. Layla and Jake waited for you while your carry on got checked and once you regrouped you settled on an action plan.

Which was a better way to say hit up anything in Manhattan that you thought a seven year old with total control might like.

“You really think a seven year old boy would willingly go to the library?” Layla laughed without humor as you wrote it down in a small note book.

Looking up you gave a smile, “Yea, I mean he's my son and my entire job is based around making the library and reading fun for kids. It's probably a second home to him.”

“Mhmm, and the museums?”

“Steven liked museums as a kid.” Jake says looking at the options for the in flight movie.

He didn't add much, and you noticed Layla didn't do much to acknowledge the fact either. But you still stared the museums on your list. Not catching the glance Jake spared down at your notes.

“But really, New York has LEGO stores and the Pokemon Center, you really think a kid's going to choose these...educational,”

“Go ahead say boring, you were going to.” you tease.

She gives a smirk, “these boring places over the others?”

“Hey, I put Coney Island on here too.” it's strange trying to lift the mood up with strangers you've just met, strangers forced to interact with you at behest of a god.

“Put Yankee Stadium on there.”

With all seriousness you turn to the man on your left, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

He raises a brow, “You got the Brox Museum of Art, Stadium's right across, why not?”

“Because no child of mine would be caught dead in Yankee Stadium.”

He clicks his tongue at you, “You a fuckin' Mets fan.”

You close the book and stare at him before your hand motions glide in front and then you bring the gestured hand upturned to your chest, “Do I look like a Mets fan? No, the answer's no.” Shaking you head you straighten up your posture, “I have no baseball affiliation, love the sport but love making fun of the fan base so much more.”

“How's that work, liking a sport with no team?”

“Easy, if I'm invited to a game or catch it on TV I just chose who I'm rooting for, after a while you like start osmosising information about player. I think it's got a lot to do with World Cup years and each footie team being different every four years so I had to learn a lot in a short amount of time.”

“Ah, soccer's your sport?” you nod to him, “Got a team for that?”

“Manchester.” you say easily, and he snorts.

When you cut your eyes at him, “Steven's gonna say somethin' next time he sees you.”

“Fuck off I'm not takin' shit from a man who's team is Arsenal.” that gets Jake's attention and all his focus is on you. A chill runs down your spine and you feel trapped by the door again.

Layla asks the question that breaks his stare down, “How'd you know Steven's favorite team?”

“He just had that look about him, honestly didn't seem the Chelsea type.”

Jake having picked out his movie just rolled the interaction off and made a grab for his headphones, “He's more of a cricket fan anyway.” before you can question it he slides the headphones over his ears.

You look back over to Layla assuming that'd been the end of the conversation, “Don't mind Jake he...he can just be that way.” she's being honest but also seems uncertain on that fact.

You nod, you understand that this situation wasn't something either of them had signed up for.

She looks past you, over to Jake eyes glaring at the scene playing out on the monitor, sighing she leans back in her chair.

“You really have no idea why your future self told you to find me?”

“I have a hunch it's because we're best friends, so of course having Auntie Layla help search for missing son makes sense, no matter timeline.”

She hums in response.

“Job doesn't leave much time for a personal life.”

It's your turn to hum, “Yea, I have a few other...first responders as friends so trust me, I understand.”

“Nice way of putting it,” she laughs, and the energies start to feel lighter again.

Looking over you catch a familiar scene on the screen in front of Jake.

“Are you watching Twilight?”

You hadn't said it that loudly but Jake still heard and his brow furrowed harder, if that was even possible.

“Yea, and it's awful.”

Layla in a better mood can't help the teasing lit in her voice, “You can always turn it off.”

But Jake just shakes his head, “It's like a train wreck.”

You and Layla share a look before giggling to yourselves and leaving Jake to his movie. You have a feeling you'll hear all about it later.