He had no idea how long he had slept, though the first thing upon waking was to check the phone on the nightstand. It had been such a long time since that traumatic time, with nothing of the sorts happening since, but as if triggered, Steven Grant reverted to old habits. Right now, he felt as anxious and close to a panic as he had years ago and he frantically scrambled to find the time and date, then check it online to be sure.

Something flowed through him, soothing and warm, a wordless whisper, a reassurance. It calmed his nerves and he felt muscles relax. The tension eased and he expelled a breath.

"Sorry…"

Another wave, this time apologetic, lingering longer and mirroring a hug.

"I know… I know… just… yeah…" he trailed off. "Sorry."

Fondness was the answer.

It was late at night, with the sun already down and the nearly full moon up in a cloudy sky. Moonlight shone unhindered into the attic flat, as if the clouds didn't dare to cover the brightly white disc. It gave the place an eerie atmosphere, but it was nothing Steven Grant was scared of. He didn't fear the dark corners or the streaks of light that seemed to crawl over the floor.

He felt safe, protected and warm. And quite well-rested. A bit headachy, a bit sore, but overall none the worse for wear, and fronting. This was their home, no matter the time of day.

"Marc?" he asked softly.

There was no answer and the mirror only showed him his own image. Steven looked inward. He found Marc asleep, wrapped in endless, silver strings, cocooned and kept safe. It was a reflection of the toll it had taken on the other soul, of how much Marc needed to rest.

So Steven was in charge. The shield.

He smiled involuntarily.

"Khonshu?"

"We are whole." This time the reply was verbal, low and slightly rough.

That was all he needed to know.

Next on the agenda: shower, shave, food. A very late dinner or a too early breakfast, take your pick.

Steven's stomach growled loudly.

Alright. Food first, he thought with a wry smile. Apparently the Jump had taken everything out of the body and right now food was a priority.

Freshly showered, shaved and finally no longer hungry, Steven sat on the bed, eyes glued to the delicate little statue. The figurine of a jackal-headed god Moon Knight had grabbed and hadn't let go, despite the fight against the magical trap. It was rather simplistic, with not a single fleck of color. Common figurines found among grave goods were usually very colorful and had inscriptions on them.

But this wasn't part of a funerary practice; this was a prison cell.

Of Anubis.

They had Anubis' ushabti!

Steven still tried to wrap his head around it. It shouldn't have been in the mansion to begin with and now… now he held it in his hands.

He trailed a light finger over the surface that appeared like it had been formed out of the smoothest of sand. Unlike Marc, he only felt a faint, almost distant whisper of magic. And only if he really listened for it.

Weird.

Or… not?

Following an idea, Steven summoned the suit and cupped gloved hands around the ushabti.

The tingle intensified and he now felt it a lot clearer, almost like a thrum of magic, and it was an echo of the Council Chamber. Still, it wasn't as strong as Marc's sense had been. Apparently the Moon Knight was a little more receptive compared to Mr. Knight. Well, the weren't the same person, so that made sense. They were as different out of the suit as they were wearing and fighting in it.

The suit disappeared and with it the thrum.

"Wow," he whispered, so awed and actually humbled to be holding this vessel.

Steven had never seen Khonshu's ushabti himself. The very thought of having his imprisoned god in his hands made him slightly sick. But this was Anubis, who wasn't their moon god, but who was just as sentenced and banished into this existence. Knowing what the other's crime had been, Steven still felt it was unjust and too extreme, but he was only human.

Marc's presence made itself known, moving closer to the front of their mind-space, and he reflected both Steven's wonder, but it was accompanied by a protective streak a mile wide.

"You okay?" Steven asked softly, meeting the still tired looking eyes in the mirror.

Fine.

Steven waited.

Tired, but fine. You?

"The same. And finally no longer hungry."

Marc chuckled. Had the munchies again? he joked.

"That reminds me, I need to go grocery shopping." He shot the other a small smile, then his eyes were on the ushabti again. "So, what now? What do we do with it?"

Marc shot him an incredulous look. You said to take that thing! So I took it.

"It's not like you always listen to me."

I do. I always do. I might not go through with half of what you're suggesting, but I do listen! Marc argued.

He shrugged almost self-consciously, but a little smile played over his hips. "I… didn't really have a plan."

Steven! came the exasperated groan.

"We had to take it, Marc! We couldn't leave him! It's… so very wrong! And it doesn't belong to anyone. Any human, that is. It's not a collectible or gift shop piece! It's not something to be displayed anywhere to be gawked at or to be stored and examined."

Marc sighed. Agreed. He rubbed a hand over his face.

"So where… where would it belong?"

The question wasn't directed at Marc but at the third presence with them. Steven looked at the slender figure crouching on the ledge of the window, impossibly fitting into a space that should be too small for nine feet of moon god. Khonshu regarded him wordlessly, his head slightly tilted. The empty sockets reflected a darkness that seemed like it wanted to swallow every ray of light.

"Where does it belong? What do we do with the ushabti of Anubis?" Steven repeated.

The silence stretched for a long minute, then, "Your choice."

"No!" Steven vigorously shook his head. "No, it's not my choice! Nothing about this whole affair is my bloody choice! I'm not qualified to… choose…" He trailed off a little helplessly.

Khonshu shrugged.

"You are definitely not helping," he muttered accusatorily.

"I am not trying to."

"This was as much your idea as it was mine, Khonshu!"

It got him a head-tilt.

"You said this ushabti doesn't belong in some human collector's hands. In any collector's, actually! It's Anubis, not some lifeless little piece of ancient art!"

The moon god regarded him with a single-minded intensity.

Steven chewed on his lower lip, looking at the Anubis figure. "It's… a prison."

"It is."

"Anubis… what he did was wrong, but the punishment isn't worse than the suffering he already endured. There is nothing worse than this failure and then having your own avatar betray you to the Ennead."

Khonshu hummed. "No. That wasn't the worst," he said softly. Very softly. "He accepted the sentence, didn't fight. He had broken a fundamental Law. He had resurrected a human soul, condemning two more. The Ennead sentenced him for raising the dead. The true punishment was the knowledge that he had condemned two unborn souls to eternal nothingness. There is no fate worse than always remembering where you failed the most, Steven Grant."

Steven looked at the tall figure. He felt echoes of a pain that was not that old, not that far from Khonshu's mind, and one that would always be with the moon god. The god who remembered every night of his life, yes.

And with it, every mistake.

Khonshu had failed spectacularly in the past, too. Arthur Harrow had been such a close-to catastrophic mistake. Then the way he had treated his next avatar, the one who had turned out to be so very special and so very much a match to the essence of an ancient entity.

Yes, Khonshu had made horrid mistakes, but he hadn't killed two unborn souls. And while he had more or less raised the dead, he had done it to acquire an avatar. Anubis had done it for his avatar and it had backfired spectacularly.

He walked over to the looming entity, feeling the irregular spikes along the connection.

"You and him… your lives and choices… not the same, you silly old bird," Steven told him, voice gentle, face filled with empathy. "You and Marc… that was quite different. It was painful and scary, it was a bloody nightmare most of the time I was along for the ride. We worked it out in the end. We're absolutely marvelous today."

It got him a warm shiver, an insubstantial caress along the soul bond. Steven's smile grew. He had no words to describe what this was, between them, what Khonshu projected. This, right there, this was what had come out of the pain, the suffering, the near-insanity. This connection that was soul-deep, intense and intimate beyond belief, and just them. Steven let it happen, let it wash over him, leaning into the warmth.

"Thank you, Steven Grant," Khonshu murmured.

"You are very welcome, you bloody pigeon."

It got him a gentle huff of amusement. "Meddling little worm."

Steven grinned at that. The emotions between them were clearly felt, the back and forth as strong as it was with Marc. His connection to Khonshu had grown from simple echoes to having the entity as closely linked to him as he was to Marc.

"So, what do we do now?" he finally asked, changing the topic back to the original question. "About Anubis? Do we release him?"

Khonshu rumbled softly, but it was neither aggressive nor a warning. He clearly wasn't the one to make the decision either way.

Steven looked at the beautiful figurine, forehead wrinkled up in a frown. "And before we even think about that and discuss every tiny detail in favor or against it, there is a more pressing matter: how did no one notice that it was gone from wherever these… stone prisons… are stored?"

Khonshu shifted, rags whipping up sharply.

"And there's still the matter of how someone can willy-nilly walk into the bloody Overvoid and take this like it's a corner shop!"

"No one can do what you propose happened! No one!" He sounded like he was chewing on glass, his voice gritty. "And the ushabti are not kept within the Overvoid. The chamber is within the Great Pyramid. Portals are created when there is a summoning, when a presence is required. No one outside an avatar can enter these portals."

"The pocket dimension," Steven murmured, immediately drawing the correct conclusions. "No gods can be there in their true form."

It got him a slight nod.

"Is there a back door?"

The bird skull tilted a little.

"For an avatar to just… walk inside?" Steven clarified. "Without the portals?"

"Using destructive force, yes."

He grimaced. "And brute force aside?"

Khonshu hummed, in thought. "I wouldn't… exclude it."

"Frigging great," he muttered.

That means an avatar stole the ushabti? Marc clarified. When? And how?

"And who," Steven added. "As Khonshu said, the gods trust their avatars. They're not always with them, so it's a matter of absolute trust." He slanted a look at their own. "True?"

"Yes." Khonshu inclined his head.

"Wouldn't that suggest that a god was involved, too?"

Khonshu grunted. He clearly wasn't happy about the idea.

"We don't know how long the ushabti has been gone from the chamber. It could have happened decades or even centuries ago. The thief might not even, uhm, exist anymore."

But the god would, if it was an avatar. I doubt a former avatar can enter.

Khonshu's presence seemed to shift. Both the souls anchored to him turned to look at the god.

Anything you might want to share with the class? Marc asked provocatively.

"An avatar released from an oath retains knowledge," the moon god said slowly. "About rituals, places, magic…"

Marc groaned, not liking where this was going. And if that person's like Harrow, they might have dug deep to find a way. Fuck!

"Blimey me! Why would someone do this?" Steven wondered.

Only they would know, Marc commented. Who knows where the ushabti has been in all that time, before it ended up in New Hampshire. Layla said the guy collects a lot of mystical and magical stuff. We saw it. He probably has an Unholy in there, too, but I'm not going back to check. Not yet.

Steven seconded that fervently.

"Who knows where the figurine was throughout the ages. He was probably the last in a long line of illegal owners. Maybe he thought it was just another decorative piece, taken from a tomb.

"And he didn't know what he really had." Steven's eyes widened a little as something struck him. "We don't even know if it's the only one! What if he has more than one? What if there is more than one out there?!"

Khonshu straightened so abruptly, Steven feared he might break his back. Well, if he was human; and he had a real back. Which he wasn't and didn't.

"There is only one way to find out," the god declared, the edges serrated and sharp

We are not barging into the Council Chamber and start threatening Osiris! Marc snapped, glaring at him. We're walking a fine line anyway and if he has a bad day, we end up banished or worse!

Khonshu stared at his soul-bound. Steven, and with him Marc, felt the fluctuating emotions. He understood them, too. On one hand, Khonshu would love nothing more than to confront Osiris over this, rub it under his nose that someone had managed the seemingly impossible. On the other hand, it was highly dangerous to challenge the other god's authority. They had gotten away with barely a slap a few times already and Osiris had more or less delegated the hunt for the Unholies to them, but that didn't translate into a carte blanche when it came to their actions.

Osiris wasn't Khonshu's supporter or had turned a blind eye to their activities. He was simply ignoring them as long as possible, but Marc had no illusions that they were free to do whatever they liked. Even if Khonshu acted that way; even if, to a large degree, they actually did just that.

"Osiris will not touch us!"

Maybe. Not counting on it. And really not betting on it!

"Someone took an ushabti," Khonshu grated, voice reflecting barely suppressed anger, "and sold it. To a human! That can't go unpunished!"

Marc fronted, glaring at his god. "It's not our job to look for the perp. We're not agents of Osiris or some kind of policing force! We just about got out of this weird place! With the ushabti! The Unholy might still be there, too! You want to stick it to Osiris, yes, I know! But if he starts flinging some obscure Law around and sends in whoever to look for the perp, this will definitely get ugly! I'm pretty sure he has some hunter or assassin on hand."

Khonshu growled softly. Marc took that as an affirmative.

"You want more of your kin skulking around this realm?" he added provocatively. "Someone who might just get in our way, too?"

The glare was fearsome.

Marc faced it with an unrelenting one of his own. His whole body was thrumming with unreleased energy. Some of it his own, some of it Khonshu's.

"My main concern right now is, what do we do with him now?"

There was no answer.

Marc carefully placed the ushabti onto Steven's cluttered desk. Steven himself was thoughtfully gazing at the relic, but he had no comment either.

Great.

Neither man talked about their new 'guest' for the rest of the night.