Prologue - A Man Without Love
A/N: I own nothing, except for any original characters introduced. :) This story will be rated T, mainly for Marc's foul mouth.
Ahkmenrah's eyes drifted lazily over the papers and scrolls scattered haphazardly on the table in front of him. As his mind began to wander, a swift desert wind entered through the open balcony and scattered the loose pages to the floor. He huffed and reached to retrieve them, then his hand met another.
"If it isn't Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, Ruler of the Land of his Fathers and the apparent pinnacle of focus."
A smile snuck onto Ahkmenrah's face as he looked up at his childhood friend, who was collecting and organizing the papers. "I am focused when it comes to important subjects," he countered as he met and held her gaze.
Takhara let out a huff and averted her gaze to the pages in her hand. "Well clearly not," she chided as she read the titles. "'Histories of the Nile and Its Travelers'; this will be important when you are deciding trade policies as Pharaoh."
Ahkmenrah's eyes rolled and returned to her. "I only wish preparing to become Pharaoh didn't include boring myself to the afterlife. If I have to read about one more minor improvement made to the design of the framing on cargo ships, I'll have to just forbid the whole river altogether."
Takhara released an exaggerated sigh, giving the Pharaoh a mock expression of exasperation. "Well, that seems like a reasonable response," she noted sarcastically. She set the papers down and took a seat at the corner of the table, close enough that Ahkmenrah thought he could feel the heat of her breath. "You know that my mother will be cross if you haven't learned something from these by the end of the day."
"Ah, she is a relentless tutor. I have never met someone in the palace with nearly as much sway as my father."
Takhara's scolding expression faltered into a laugh and nod. "That is true, and yet I feel that you don't fear her wrath as much as you should."
Ahkmenrah shrugged innocently. "I have been trying to read them, honestly. I just don't find much joy in tales of the past. Should I not be focused on the future of my people?"
Takhara hummed in understanding. "Your heart is in the right place." She leaned forward suddenly, with such energy that Ahkmenrah nearly flinched away. "But history is all about your people, and others too! There is so much to learn from them. For example, the minor modification you mentioned to the ship's frame - it looks like one of those modifications allowed the ship to carry nearly twice the cargo! Imagine how that would affect a merchant's life. Even the creation of the ship in the first place is a fantastic marvel of humanity, allowing us to travel by the waters day and night, connecting us with one another, and allowing us to experience the wonders of people from faraway lands. I am thankful for the innovations of our ancestors that allow us to experience the world in new and fantastic ways. Just thinking about it fills me with the urge to run to the Nile, catch the next boat, and travel to some distant place..."
Ahkmenrah relaxed as he admired Takhara; her eyes twinkled with excitement and he knew that there must be stars trapped inside her. After a moment, he realized that she had stopped and was staring abashedly at her hands in her lap.
"I apologize for rambling, my Pharoah."
"No, the fault is mine - I was lost in your words. And please, I am only Ahk to you." Takhara blushed and gave a small nod, turning awkwardly back to the pages in front of her. Ahkmenrah filled the silence, "And I would gladly travel with you, if you would have me."
Takhara gave a light smile, her face flushed as she avoided Ahkmenrah's gaze. He was surprised to note that his own face became hot as his heart thumped wildly in his chest; he wondered if hers was doing the same.
"Well," Takhara sighed, "It would be a shame if you died at the hands of my mother before our trip. Why don't I help you go through these so that we can still go someday?"
The edges of Ahkmenrah's lips curled upwards as he bowed his head in agreement. "That would be acceptable. I wouldn't want to delay our travels."
Takhara beamed, picking up some of the pages excitedly. "Right. Let's start at the beginning then..."
Ahkmenrah felt life fill his lungs as his eyes fluttered open. He stared up into the darkness of the lid of his sarcophagus, wishing that it was still Takhara's face instead.
Quickly he flung open the lid, the anxiety of being confined fading after he sat up and took a look around. His parents' sarcophaguses sat on either side; he was back in the British Museum and his eternal life. He thought back to his dreams and smiled mournfully. Hopefully, he would be able to dream of another memory when sunrise came.
Marc Spector tumbled out of bed after another session with Dr. Harrow in the dream psych ward. As his wits returned he took a quick scan of all of the usual safety guards: the sand circle around the bed, the restraint around his ankle that was tied to the structural post, the two goldfish that swam blissfully unaware of anything outside of their Egyptian-themed tank.
After releasing himself from his ankle restraint he wandered over to the door to check the tape along the edges, wiping his eyes and yawning to dispel the sleepiness and the dreams. As he returned and made his way towards the kitchen to forage for something to eat, he noticed a small collection of brightly-colored papers scattered on the desk.
"Steven, have you been collecting garbage again? C'mon man, this place is already a sty."
"No, no, I don't think this was me."
"Are you sure?" Marc looked at the top page, which featured an ornate Egyptian sarcophagus superimposed on top of the American and English flags. "It looks annoyingly right up your alley."
"Oh! This is the sarcophagus of Ahkmenrah!" Steven excitedly flipped through the remaining ads, each depicting iterations of the same graphic with additional exhibit pieces listed in the fine print. "This guy is a legend, really. One of the most beloved Pharaohs of all time, he died tragically young. It looks like they're permanently moving his exhibit back to the American Museum of Natural History in New York, along with a few other exhibits from the British Museum. Oh, it would be wonderful to see the original New York exhibit! I heard they had his guardian statues at the entrance and a relief display for his tablet and everything."
Marc paused in thought, then dropped the pages back onto the desk. "Well, why not then?"
"Pardon, what?"
"Why not see it? This place is a sty anyway, and since Layla has moved on it's not like there's much reason to stay here." They both felt a twist in their stomach at the mention of Layla... They hoped she was doing well. "It might be nice to move back stateside, get away for a while." Marc rubbed at the back of his head. "And it'd make you happy, right? I think I owe you that much after all of the shit I've put you through."
"Marc, you don't owe me anything..."
"Yeah, yeah, don't read too much into it. I just think it'd be a nice change of pace."
"...Y'mean it? Y'really mean it?" Steven clapped his hands excitedly. "Oh, we're going on an adventure!"
Marc smirked and turned back to the apartment. "Yeah, but you get to pack. I'm not trying to find anything in this fuckin' mess."
Steven put his hands on his hips as he assessed the state of the place. "Right, yeah, that's fair enough innit?"
Dara Dooley squinted through crusted eyes as her alarm ringtone dragged her out of her deep sleep. She struggled with the blanket and threw her arm to the bedside table, aiming for the snooze button on her phone. After a few misses, she succeeded in temporarily silencing the alarm and retreated back to her blanket pile.
It felt as if she was waking from a lifetime's worth of sleep, and her dreams were annoyingly out of reach of her waking memory, as usual. Just a few more minutes of sleep would hopefully be enough to remember some piece of them.
The minutes passed quickly and the alarm returned. Admitting defeat, she resigned to throwing the blanket to the side and silencing the alarm for good.
Her body started hobbling automatically around the small apartment, aiming for the toothbrush first. As she stood and brushed robotically, she wandered over to the pile of unsorted mail and quickly flipped through it. As expected, most of them were get-well cards that had something to do with running - "Hope you're back up and running soon!" "Hope you have a speedy recovery!" "Glad you're on track to getting better!"
Dara smiled sadly as she tossed them back into the pile. Although she was fortunate to have people who cared enough to wish her well, she knew that she was going to end up disappointing them. The surgery had gone fine but it was unlikely that she would ever fully recover from her injury. Walking was easy again which was a definite improvement, even if she had gained a small limp in the process. Her new artificial knee, though, was never going to be able to take the high impact of the competitive running scene.
And she was a little over a year away from turning thirty, so maybe it was about time for a change anyway. The problem was that she had no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Without running, she wasn't really sure what her purpose was.
Dara had been trying to figure that part out. Thankfully she had a lot of time during the six-month recovery period and was already exploring her options. So far, she had ruled out cooking, painting, writing, music, modeling, marketing, public speaking, construction, and sales, among many others...
"My prospects are not looking great so far," she sighed as she slid her hand down her face. "Hopefully teaching is better? Maybe this history class will go well."
Class. She froze, then smacked her face in realization.
"Oh shit! Class!" In her groggy morning haze, she had completely forgotten that she had class today - and in less than thirty minutes.
The apartment became energized with a flurry of activity as Dara threw on some clothes, grabbed the necessities, burst from the apartment door and speed-walked to the elevator.
Larry Daley stifled a yawn as he stepped off of the bus, careful not to slip on the rain-soaked pavement.
After a short walk, he stood at the bottom of the steps of the Natural History Museum. He smiled to himself; there was always a certain feeling that built up inside of him whenever he looked at the building, even though the tablet's magic hadn't brought the place to life since the traveling exhibit the previous year. The walls and columns themselves seemed to always hold on to a piece of the spell.
He allowed himself to reminisce for a moment and then quickly climbed the steps, smiling politely to museum patrons as they exited. Once inside, it wasn't long before he spotted his son making small talk with the volunteer who was packing up the welcome booth for the night.
"Hey Nick," Larry greeted as he approached, wrapping his arm around his son's shoulder and giving a small squeeze.
"Hey Dad, good to see you," Nicky responded, leaning into the squeeze for a minute. He thanked the volunteer for their time and joined his dad as he walked toward the Curator's office. "Do you know why Dr. McPhee asked us to meet him today?"
"No idea. I assume it's to congratulate you on the new position. It's not every day this place gets a new night guard."
Nicky smiled. "Yeah, that's true. Weren't the night guards before you here for like a hundred years?"
"That's definitely not true." Larry thought about it a bit. "But the tablet does work in mysterious ways..."
The two rounded a corner and nearly bumped into Dr. McPhee, who began to scold, "Please mind where you're going, this is a museum, not an amusement pa-" Dr. McPhee stopped himself short, taking note of the faces in front of him. "Oh, if it isn't the Daleys!" He began to go in for a hug, but stopped himself awkwardly midway, then settled for a pat on each of their shoulders. "So glad you both could make it, please, come, come, out of the riff-raff," he hummed as he pushed them toward his office.
Once inside, McPhee closed the door and gestured for them both to take a seat. "Thank you both for taking the time. Butterscotch?" He gestured to a small jar of wrapped candies on his desk. Larry declined while Nicky nodded and reached for one, unwrapped it, then popped it into his mouth.
"First off, I wanted to say congrats to Nicholas, your application was top-notch and we're so excited to have you on the team," McPhee praised.
Nicky, taken aback by the sudden compliment, tried to adjust the candy to the side of his mouth and managed, "Thank you thir, the pleathure ith mine."
McPhee nodded, leaning back in his chair and locking his fingers together as he continued, "As you both know, Ahkmenrah and his tablet will be returning to us, along with a few transfers from the British museum- in fact, they arrived earlier today."
Larry interrupted, "What about Ahk's parents? They aren't going to be separated, are they?"
"Yes, well, there are some political complications that mean his parents will have to stay in London for the time being, but I gave them a visit a few weeks ago and promised that they would join their son within the year, I'll be sure of it." Larry nodded, understanding though disappointed that Ahk would have to be separated from his parents for a time. "Now that I know the... unique complications that can arise at night due to Ahkmenrah's magic running amok, I was able to make a recommendation to the Board for the addition of three nightguards, yourself included," McPhee gestured to Nicky. Both Larry and Nicky's eyebrows shot up at the news.
"Well, that's great," Larry noted. "It was always tough to run everything with just one person."
"I can only imagine!" McPhee gave a light little laugh, then leaned forward. "I've brought you both here because I would like your approval on my other two choices. I trust both of your judgments wholeheartedly when it comes to these matters." The Daleys nodded in agreement. "Right, great, perfect, I'll bring the first in then, just a moment." McPhee got up from the desk and exited the office, returning after a moment and popping his head in.
"Now, I would ask that both of you just maintain an open mind..." McPhee pleaded as he opened the door. On the other side stood Reginald.
"Larry, Nicky," Reginald greeted with a polite bow of his head.
"Ah, hold up," Nicky raised his hand as if he were waiting to be called on in school, then continued anyway, "Am I the only one that sees the problem with this? Isn't it generally best practice to avoid hiring people who, y'know, tried to steal priceless artifacts? And also tried to frame my dad for it? I haven't finished reading the handbook yet but there's gotta be a policy for this somewhere-"
Larry held a hand up to Nicky, stopping him from rambling too much, and added, "I think what Nicky means is, this seems like you're taking a big risk."
"Right, well, that's fair enough, but please try to understand - For the safety of the museum inhabitants, it'd be best to hire people who already know the secret, right? The more people know the secret, the greater the threat of someone trying to take the magic for themselves-"
"So you're just going to bring a thief in the minute Ahkmenrah comes back? That doesn't seem like the best response to me-"
"Nicky, calm down, Dr. McPhee is your boss now," Larry interrupted. Nicky huffed.
"Dad, this museum is our family. We can't let someone come in who is clearly just in it for himself."
"If I may chime in," Reginald spoke softly, but firmly enough that everyone turned to him. "I understand your concern. Really, I do. I was younger then and I've learned from my mistakes."
"You weren't that young, dude," Nicky deadpanned before being elbowed by Larry.
"You're right, I wasn't young. But younger. I had my wife to think about, as well as Cecil and Gus. When we got fired all I could think about was how to make everything better for them. But it turns out, even after the short stint in the slammer, we made out all right. We had good lives." Reginald paused for a moment, deep in his own memories. "They're all gone now."
A silence fell over the room. Larry remembered going to Cecil and Gus's funerals. Honestly, he had never thought to ask if Reginald was married, let alone what happened to his wife.
"In truth, all I want now is to live out the rest of my life as good as I can. It's what they would want. And honestly, I've never felt more alive than when I walked these halls with Cecil and Gus. Well, except for when I held Rosaline." He turned to Larry specifically as he continued. "I doubt there's any way that I can make you believe that I mean no harm to this place, and I don't know if I will make many friends while on duty either. But I offer my word that I will try to make up for what I've done, whatever that's good for."
Larry sat in quiet contemplation, looking into Reginald's earnest expression. He pursed his lips, nodded a bit, and decided, "Okay. I approve of your choice, McPhee."
"Dad-"
"No Nicky. Reginald isn't a bad man... None of them were. Just misguided. He deserves another chance," and Larry said it with a finality that decided the matter for everyone.
"Great! Right!" McPhee sat back down at his desk, dotting some sweat from his brow with a handkerchief he pulled from his jacket pocket. "That was more stressful than I anticipated but glad to see that we're all on the same page. Now, for my other choice..." McPhee tapped his fingers on his desk in a drumroll, biting his lip and looking excitedly between the Daleys. Reginald rolled his eyes at the dramatic display.
After the drumroll finished, McPhee pointed enthusiastically at Larry. "Ta-Da!"
Larry blinked slowly, then furrowed his brow. "What... What is that? Why are you doing that?"
"Ah, well, the last nightguard is you. I've just offered you the job. Congratulations! It comes with great benefits, of course, and we still have your old uniform, although it looks like you've maybe gained some around the waist so we can take it to the fitters-"
"No."
"...Now, when you say 'no', what exactly do you mean?"
Larry sighed. "I mean 'I'm sorry, but I can't accept.' Listen, I loved this job McPhee-"
"Yeah, well, clearly," McPhee retorted.
Larry continued, "But I can't abandon my students. Things have been going well at the college, and I've got a really good thing going on. I would be more than happy to come to help out, but honestly, there are other people that need me right now." Larry looked over at Nicky. "And besides, it's time for others to experience the magic." Nicky smiled and nodded in understanding.
"Right, well, great for you, glad you got your whole life figured out or whatever, that's really fantastic. But where the hell does that leave us then, hmm?" McPhee collapsed further into his chair, determined to wallow as visibly as possible.
"Well, what about the guard from the British museum? What was her name?... Tilly?"
"Can't, checked that, apparently she joined a girl group or something so won't be leaving the UK," McPhee huffed. "I also asked Rebecca, but since her last book became a bestseller she's got all sorts of tours and things lined up, and didn't think night-guarding would be her forte anyway. And, as Reginald pointed out, everyone else who knows the secret is dead."
"...Glad I was your first choice," Larry noted.
"Well, as you can see, I'm pretty much out of options."
The four sat in silence for another moment, until Nicky chimed in, "Well, then I guess you just have to hire someone who doesn't know?"
Larry nodded, "I think so. I mean, that's how I was hired and I ended up alright."
Dr. McPhee balked. "'Alright'? Because of you I almost became a Tyrannosaurus' lunch, if you remember." Larry winced; he did remember that. Larry pondered for a moment more until an idea struck him.
"Well, what if we were able to vet them a little more?" Larry questioned rhetorically. "I'm teaching a history class. What if I bring them in for a nighttime tour of the museum? We could have all of the exhibits stay still as the group passed by, and see if there is anyone who seems like a natural fit?"
McPhee scrunched up his face a bit, then sighed. "You sure you wouldn't come back? I can offer another three dollars an hour."
Larry stared at him blankly and responded, "Thanks, but I'm good."
"Very well then," McPhee admitted defeatedly. "I suppose having some exposure is better than none at all, eh? Fine then. I'll arrange a time for your tour to come in, be prepared in the next few weeks." McPhee stood, extending his hand to Larry, Nicky, and Reginald in turn. It was agreed.
As the four left McPhee's office the sun set on the sleepless city, and they all felt the familiar sensation of the tablet's magic washing over them in a cold wave. Soon, the noises of the inhabitants waking up echoed throughout the hallowed halls. Despite the tension that had filled the office, all four men found themselves standing still and appreciating the moment.
It felt like coming home.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfiction so please let me know if you have any advice/criticism/kind words. :) I've actually been wanting to write a Night at the Museum fic with this storyline for a long time, but it was always missing something... And then I saw Moon Knight and suddenly, "Oh! It was missing that!"