Chapter Text
Saturdays used to be the busiest day of the week - for Steven that is. Museum tours typically had around 200 children roaming the halls, begging parents for souvenirs. He would come home and collapse in a heap, completely exhausted. Those were the days when Marc was able to take over. Steven was simply unable to keep his eyes open.
However, Steven Grant no longer worked at the museum, thanks to the toilet situation. He wasn't particularly upset with this arrangement, but he missed being around the artifacts and diving into their history whenever he could. So today, instead of working behind a desk, he flipped through a few Egyptian documentaries.
“Steven, I know this stuff is your happy place but could we please watch anything else?”
Steven glanced down at a cup of water that sat on the coffee table. Marc was staring back at him, obviously annoyed. Instead of complying, Steven turned the glass away.
“What, do you have better things to do? Aren't you interested in the history?”
“No,” Steven looked up to see Marc in the reflection of the window now, glowering at him, “If I never heard anything else about the pyramids and pharaohs and shit, I’d be happy. I’m ready to be done with it. If you really wanna know about it, go ask Khonsu.”
Steven scoffed, incredulous, “‘Go ask Khonsu’ he says. Right. That’s a brilliant idea. I’ll give him a quick ring on the telly. Your genius strikes again, Marc.”
Marc rolled his eyes, staying silent. They sat quietly for a moment as Steven flipped through the channels. Finally, he groaned and tossed the remote on the couch.
“Well, I don't see you making any suggestions. What would you rather we watch, hm?”
“I’d rather you go to sleep, Steven.”
“Ohh no you don’t. Nope. Absolutely not-”
“Steven-”
“The last time I went to sleep you got on a plane to New York and I woke up with a bloody nose.”
Marc threw his hands up. “I told you that wasn't me!”
“Oh, bollocks, Marc. Really you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than th-”
His eyes rolled up without warning. Coming to again, Marc cracked his neck.
“Hey!” Steven tapped on the window glass in frustration. “I didn't let you do that!”
Marc stood up and walked to the door. “You know exactly who brought us to New York. I need some fresh air.”
“No no no, you get back on the couch right now. I do not- Marc!”
Ignoring him, Marc twisted the handle and opened it, only to find himself face to face with a familiar figure. They seemed equally startled to see each other.
“Layla?” He blinked in surprise.
Layla blinked, hand raised as if were about to knock. Then she smiled up at him. “Hey there, stranger.”
“I thought you were in Cairo.”
She stepped past him and into the apartment. “I was in Cairo. Now I'm back. My plane landed this morning.”
She squeezed the sleeve of his shirt and then set her bag down. He ran a hand through his curly hair. It flopped back down immediately.
“I wish you would have told me you were coming.”
Layla gave him a strange look. “You don't seem very happy to see me.”
“No, don't get me wrong. I’m-”
His eyes rolled back and before she knew it, his whole disposition had changed from tense and grumpy, to chipper.
“Well, I for one, am very happy to see you. Give me a hug, darling.” Steven opened his arms.
She chuckled and hugged him. “Steven, good to see you too.”
“Don't worry about Marc. he's been in a horrible mood all day. Very bitey. You're the lucky one who didn't have to deal with it. Tea?”
It was a wonder Steven wasn’t in a bad mood as well. They’d been losing more and more time since the fight with Ammit, and now they knew why.
Jake Lockley.
He surfaced one afternoon in March, nearly scaring them half to death when Marc went to take a shower. His brutish behavior rubbed Steven the wrong way, but it was familiar to Marc, the only difference was how cruel he could be. Where Marc usually stopped the violence, Jake took it one step further. He hardly ever showed up, but when he did, it was like the air got sucked out of the room.
“I’d love that.” Layla slid onto the barstool as Steven hummed to himself making tea. His little mannerisms were so uniquely… Steven. “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say this was all a ruse and Marc just had an identical twin. You and he are so different.”
“Strange isn’t it? I’d laugh if it weren’t my reality.” He paused making tea. She couldn’t see his face but when he turned around she could instantly tell the difference.
“Our reality. I have to live with it too.” Marc said, but in an instant, Steven popped back in.
“You know I hate it when you say things like that. We’re normally not this argumentative, I don’t know what has him on edge like this.”
“Can you give us a minute??” Marc was back. Layla could hardly keep up, but she was trying her best. If it weren’t for their accents, she’d be struggling. Marc sighed and looked back at Layla. “I’m happy to see you. Tell me about Cairo.”
Layla smirked. “You don’t want to know about Cairo. It’s boring. I’ll change the subject for you, though, don’t worry.”
Marc rolled his eyes and turned back to the tea. She could always see right through him.
“I think…” She bit her lip and looked at her hands. “I think I may have found a doctor for you.”
Marc paused. He squeezed the handle of the kettle slightly.
“I think it would be good for you. And Steven.”
Marc glanced at his reflection in the fridge. Steven stared at him, worry strewn across his face. He glanced back down at the tea, averting his eyes.
“I’m not good with doctors, you know that.”
Layla tightened her lips into a thin line and stood up. She walked behind him and put her arms around his waist. “I know… I think this one will be different.” She stroked his stomach in small comforting circles.
“I’m just…” He started, but found himself having trouble saying the words. “I’m… I guess I’m just… afraid… of losing… um….”
Layla lifted her head for a moment. “Steven?”
He chewed his lip silently and looked down, nodding his head.
Steven cracked a smile. “You big softy.”
Marc glared at him.
“I understand,” Layla said,” I’d be scared too. I won’t force you, though. Just think about it, okay?”
Marc nodded, then hesitantly took her hand and squeezed it. Things weren’t exactly back to normal for them yet. It felt like affection had to be measured at times.
In the reflection of the fridge, Steven looked over at the window. Standing there, arms folded, was Jake Lockley. Steven felt his stomach drop. Jake glanced over at Steven and cracked a grin.
“Boo.”
Steven played with his fingers, a nervous habit, but he didn’t take his eyes off Lockley. “What are you doing here?”
Jake looked back at Marc and Layla. “What, am I grounded or something? I like to stretch my legs every once in a while.”
Though he looked just like Marc and Steven, his De Niro drawl was what kept him apart. Marc looked up suddenly, hearing his voice. His brows furrowed.
“Jake?” He muttered.
Layla looked up at him, confused. “Who?”
Lockley tilted his head, looking at Steven. “What do you think? Should I introduce myself?
Marc and Steven simultaneously blurted out a resounding “NO.” but before they could stop it, Jake had taken the reins. He looked back at Layla and cracked a grin.
“Hey there, doll.”
Layla instantly let go of him and backed away a step. She looked at him carefully. “... Jake, I presume…?”
“Nice to finally meet you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, thumbing it.
“Wh- You smoke?” Layla said in surprise. His expression changed quickly and his eyes widened. The switches were becoming more rapid.
“Oh no, absolutely not! Not in the house! Not ever!” Steven was about to throw the box away but Jake came back in an instant, waving his hand in the air.
“Sit tight, princess. You’ve had the body all day.” He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, puffing it off to the side. Layla grimaced and walked around the counter to get away from the smoke. She looked warily at this new personality.
“How long have you been… a part of Marc?”
He took his time taking another drag of the cigarette. “Long time. Longer than you’ve been here. I’m just not the needy type. I appear when I need to.” He smirked, which was always a bad sign. “When Steven got out of control, I slipped through the cracks too. But I’ve always been here, watching everything.” His eyes flickered, looking her up and down. “And I mean everything.”
Layla blushed, suddenly incredibly self conscious.
“Get out of the body, Jake.” Marc growled.
Jake chuckled. “Down, boy.”
“Talk to my wife like that again and I’ll break our fucking nose. I mean it.”
“Pipe down. See, you’re all talk, I don’t have to make threats. When I talk, people listen.”
Layla stared at him. If she hadn’t known what was going on in Marc’s head, it would appear as if he was just talking to himself. He glanced back at her, causing her to stiffen. Jake walked closer, tilting his head down to her, and lifted her chin with his finger.
“I still look the same as Marc. I'd just be better in bed.”
Layla’s eyes widened. She would have slapped him if Marc hadn’t already beat her to it. In a second, he had popped himself square in the jaw. His eyes rolled back and he instantly hissed with pain, clutching his cheek.
“Shit! Layla- ignore him. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”
Layla stared at him. "How long have you known about… Jake?" She ventured.
Marc rubbed his cheek, looking away. "A couple months."
"Months?" Layla shook her head, incredulous. "You never thought to tell me? Let me know? I thought we were passed all the secrecy."
"I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, Layla, I just… Jake isn’t something I’m proud of."
Layla sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "No more hiding things from me. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Jake certainly isn’t going to change that."
He nodded a bit. She could see the tiredness in his eyes, it must be exhausting keeping up with everything going on inside his own mind.
For Layla, this all was certainly… new. How many alters did Marc actually have? Were more coming - being created even? Even if she had served him divorce papers, they had gone in the trash after the fight in Cairo.
She would help Marc through this. Even if Jake was around.