-"It's maddening, isn't it?"
The memory teased him, mocked him. Steven's memory. One interlaced with fear, with terror.
"The voice in your head. Relentless, forever unsatisfied."-
Marc looked at the owner of that relentless, forever unsatisfied voice that had been in his head for such a long time. And he listened to that voice. He and found while everything was the same, things had forever changed.
"I was always there," Khonshu told him, voice dropping a deeper, almost hypnotic. "From the moment of that first crack in your mind as it gave in to the torture, to the brain-washing at the hands of your enemies. I was there and I knew I had to have you. Because you are perfect. Because there is a darkness to the moon, as well as a powerful light. There is nothingness and brightness, and there is the world between. You encompass them all."
Again, the entity's head turned to gaze at Layla.
"In my endless existence there were a few who had what it took to be my avatar for more than a few cycles. None were as balanced as you have become since you… gave in… gave up… stopped squabbling and just… fought."
Marc felt his mouth go dry. "What?"
Oh bloody hell, Steven muttered.
"I thought he was a meddlesome fool. Just another crack. I was wrong. He was strong. So strong that he existed with you after a while, became aware, became your counterweight. The equilibrium."
I wouldn't call that bright nightmare of a world I was forced to live through stable or close to in balancel! Steven argued hotly.
Marc could only agree. His own life had been the worst rollercoaster ride ever imagine, a nightmare to anyone else, and then Steven had woken up to that nightmare.
"That wall between you was no more. He started to counterbalance your mind. The scales, Marc. Despite the chaos, they never tipped in one direction. They kept swinging. Now they stopped, haven't they?" Khonshu asked, sounding almost curious.
Steven was shaking his head, but Marc ignored him.
"You found a way to exist within your two strongest alters," the moon god explained. "Here," he actually tapped against Marc's temple, "and here," and against his chest. "Fusing you into what you need. The balanced scales. The sword and the shield. Ammit took what had sent you into chaos and kept you off balance. She actually did us a favor."
It was the first time he felt the entity's physical touch and it was… weird. A little too much and yet, something that wasn't unpleasant.
Khonshu had never touched him. Marc could have sworn the god was unable to touch anything at all. He had always been there, visible only to him, but never touching. He could use the wind to express his displeasure by upending things, sure, but usually he lashed out verbally.
"You confused Ammit. It gave you an edge. You weren't just an avatar, a vessel. You were the Knight even without my armor. You were perfectly in symmetry for the first time of your life."
Bandage-wrapped fingers cupped his chin, tilting his head a little to look up at the god. It was a warm touch, so incredibly real, the sensation of ancient, otherworldly cloth against his unshaven cheeks almost too much. It wasn't coarse. It was softer than he would have thought. Just like that touch.
Marc met the intense gaze and found himself almost mesmerized by the force behind those empty sockets. He felt the swirl of emotions and thoughts around the edge of his mind and he let them brush over his consciousness in a brief caress.
"I didn't know why your soul pulled me to you, but I wasn't wrong to offer you the choice back when you died, Marc Spector. I felt you were different from Harrow, though I did not know it was the idiot who made you so perfect."
"Hey!" they protested as one voice.
Khonshu chuckled, thumb brushing over his skin. So real. So fucking real! Not just a magical thing, myth and legend invisible to others. Not a figment of his imagination. This was real and he realized there had been a game-changer throughout their wild adventure.
Something had forever changed.
Within him.
In his relationship with Steven.
In his connection to Khonshu.
"Two sides of the same coin," the deity continued softly, sounding almost mystified. "Two sides, warring for dominance and still so very much at balance it even confused Ammit's scales. You are neither one nor the other. You are both. You fight like one. And she," the skull turned to look at Layla, "is your reality, for both of you. She is connected to both of you, but has never been to the others. She is gravity. She gave both of you the strength to survive."
Marc felt adrenaline spike. "Do not involve her in this!"
He wanted to step back, remove the gentle yet firm touch, but he couldn't. He was rooted to the spot as Khonshu's presence seemed to seep into every nook and cranny of space around him.
It was gentler than ever before.
It was calm, far from the tempestuous temper tantrums he had sometimes. It was deeper, more meaningful, and it was simply everywhere.
"She already is," Khonshu stated softly.
"I already am!" Layla proclaimed at the same time.
"She always has been," the god added with an audible smirk.
Spector slanted a look on his wife. "You're not part of this, Layla!"
"I am your wife!" she snapped back at him. "Not just some… sidekick! We've known each other for a long time! I was very much aware of the suit, too! I kept your arse alive, Spector. Yours and your alter's. You wouldn't be here without me! I am very much part of this, of you, and always have been!"
She was fire impersonate as she glared at him. Khonshu's approval was an almost physical thing and Marc wanted to ram the moon staff up his skinny ass.
That emotional surge only amused the deity even more.
Steven was still on the backseat, mystified, watching.
"It's why wanted the divorce," he murmured. "You were too involved."
"Well, too bad for you," Layla told him angrily. "I have been there with you ever since… well, meeting you, you idiot! Marrying you! And while you ditched me, I got involved again. This time with your other self, Marc. I've been involved every single step of the way! All of you," she gestured, "including Khonshu! You're not getting that divorce, Spector. Ever!"
Khonshu chuckled, rough and actually amused.
"You have no idea what this means!" Marc snarled, finally turning to face her as the entity released him, fingers sliding over his skin.
"Don't I? Tell me, do you remember how long we have worked together? How many adventures we had? I've been on this crazy, fucked-up ride around the world with you and your suited-up bad-ass knight, as well as your other self and his alter ego! I've seen some really messed-up shit! Among that some really insane, messed-up shit like a skull-headed moon god and a crocodile-headed woman trying to off most of humanity!"
Marc blinked. "You've seen Khonshu?" he whispered, completely caught off guard.
If looks could kill, Layla had a good grasp on how to accomplish that. "I can still see him."
Steven chuckled inside him as Marc flailed to understand. He narrowed his eyes at the entity.
"She can see you?"
"Apparently," was the smooth, amused reply.
"Why?"
"She is the next candidate."
"No!"
"You know she could be my next," Khonshu purred. "Should you fail or end this partnership, she is the replacement."
"You're still a blackmailing, manipulative bastard!" Marc spat furiously. "Getting your crusty old ass trapped in stone didn't change anything!"
Layla crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Not that I really want to be the bad-ass mummy-wrapped Fist of Vengeance, but hey: you do not get to decide for me!"
"We had a deal!" Spector growled at Khonshu, ignoring his wife.
"Indeed. But since we successfully stopped Ammit from entering this plane, do I have to remind you that our deal is over? You told me so. I accepted the terms of our agreement."
Marc's mind blanked with murderous rage.
No! Steven surged forward, voice begging. Don't do this! If you don't want to bargain, let me, okay?
"We're not bargaining!" Marc hissed.
We're also not fighting! Well, you won't be fighting. This is a god, Spector! Uhm… an entity from another realm that manifests as what the paleolithic humans then saw as gods and the Egyptians later adopted into the deities we know… but, well, my point being… he's immortal! Do you really think you can so much as kick him in the shin?
Okay, so Steven was his incessantly talking voice of reason and he hated that voice of reason. But it was also a part of him. He had started to heal because he had embraced all that he was, those fractured parts, and he knew they were all him.
So, yeah, well…
"I hate you!" he whispered, staring at Khonshu. "So much!"
The entity tilted his head, not the least bit perturbed.
-"No matter how hard you try to please, it devours you until there is nothing left but a hollow shell."
Marc forcefully pushed those memories away; Steven's again. Steven gave him an apologetic, almost tremulous smile.
Sorry. So very sorry. He got to me. A lot. Bastard.
"He got to both of us," Marc replied softly. "A lot. And we're not… hollow."
No. There are still the two of us. And as one of them, I know you don't hate the git.
"I will uphold my end of our bargain," the god stated, head tilted as he studied his avatar. "If you want me to."
Again, a surge of fury rose.
"I can set you free, Marc Spector. To be whatever you decide to do with what you call this life. But: are you willing to live that life? Are you willing to break again and maybe never return?"
Blackmailing, dusty old creep!
Marc…
"Yes, I could find someone else," Khonshu mused.
"I won't let you have her!"
Marc…!
"Shut up, Steven!"
No! No, listen! Listen to what he says! You need to shut up and listen! And see! Can't you see it?
"You don't get to decide over my life, Spector," Layla stated angrily as his alter argued with him.
Khonshu's gaze held Marc's and he appeared almost… benign… all of a sudden. "I am the greatest of the great gods."
"The greatest pain in the ass, you mean," Marc snorted, but Steven made a sound as if he agreed with the entity.
He is, Grant argued. Really. The moon is quite powerful.
"So, we're in agreement that he's the greatest ass out there?" Marc asked darkly, a twist to his lips as he looked at the flustered Steven.
Yes. No. Well, yes to both. He's the greatest of the great gods, but also the greatest of… jerks.
Marc felt laughter bubble up inside him.
"We agree on one thing, Khonshu: you're great at something. Not sure you want to see it as a compliment."
The deity looked at him, then snorted.
"This is between you and me," Marc went on. "Leave Layla out of it."
There was a thoughtful silence, then, "I have a proposal."
"I really don't wanna know…"
I do.
Steven would, he thought darkly.
"I am the shepherd of the lost," Khonshu went on, voice softening. "My avatars are those who are lost, be it in life or in death. They were receptive to me for one reason or another, but you were by far the most receptive. Your mind was already open, but it never broke under the weight of my mantle, Marc Spector. It healed because of it."
Khonshu traced a finger along Marc's left temple. The touch seeped into his mind, blanketing it, gentle and almost tentative. So different from the demanding roughness of before.
Real. So real, real, real! He almost leaned into it.
Don't you get it, you absolute twit? He is real! Layla can see him because he is really here. With us!
Marc puzzled over the words and Steven groaned.
We called the Moon Knight's armor, right? When we shouldn't have been able to! We called him, Marc! We opened up and called him! We wanted him. It was our free will and choice!
Marc was frozen to the spot.
We… we let her see him. Because he's here.
Khonshu regarded him silently, then suddenly tapped one finger of the hand still cupping his face against the temple. "I am here," he whispered, like a promise and a threat in one.
Marc swallowed dryly.
It only settled in just about now what a monumental decision he had made, what final step he had taken.
Following instinct.
"You faced a demon," the entity murmured, so close, to overpowering, yet no longer that nightmarish thing that controlled him. "Just like the idiot faced a demon. Together, you faced Ammit and freed me."
Sacrificing parts of himself. The survivors now without walls between them. Marc had no idea if he was more stable than before or even more crazy for doing what he did. Had done. Would do again.
Debt paid, Steven translated. That moment, the debt was paid.
"Greatest mistake I ever made," Marc mumbled though almost numb lips, but there was no heat to it.
Because he had missed the guy.
He had missed Khonshu.
It was a frightening realization, and it hadn't made it into his conscious mind up until now.
He could have run, let anyone else fight Ammit. Let the Ennead clean up their own mess. His debt had been no more. His body was his own again.
They wouldn't have been able to stop her until it was too bloody late, Steven told him softly.
Yeah. Maybe. And he had been guided by instinct to finish what he had started.
Years of semi-voluntary service to a temperamental man-child of a god, the dark voice egging him on to kill, to bring justice, and his only relief had been when he had slid back into the depth of his mind, gave Steven control. Years of no peace. Years of anger and fear and yet…
It hadn't been all bad.
He had had a purpose. A power. A life, wild and chaotic as it had been, hunting and bringing justice.
Marc stared at his god. And yes, he was quite aware of the proprietary term. Khonshu was his. He was the Knight to the Moon God. Damnit, he wouldn't give anyone else that pleasure!
There was a surge of energy, responding to his unspoken claim. Steven radiated amusement.
Khonshu had been gone, ripped from him. Another decision taken out of his hands, not his to make.
He should have been happy, but the truth was, he had missed the jerk. Like a limb that had been removed.
Khonshu smiled, though it was more of a sensation or like an afterimage after looking into the sun too long. The skull had no lips.
You do remember that he called us his perfect avatar, right? Steven stated loudly. He's not really that interested in Layla. And how would he make her his next? Possession? Forcing her? For all his bad temper, demands and name-calling… he can't make someone his avatar, right? Doesn't work like that. You died and he made you an offer. If you had said no, well, death.
Marc silently stared at his alter, the light bulb moment almost comical.
He pressed all your buttons! You only ever reacted, never stopped to think, you sod! Steven exclaimed. He doesn't want Layla or anyone else! He wants you and me! And maybe her on the team because she connects us in the real world. Like he connects us in his realm. He connects to us, Marc. To us.
Marc blinked, then his expression turned murderous as he stared at the moon god.
"You manipulative bastard!" he hissed, eyes cold and dark.
Khonshu didn't look impressed.
I'd say you can't fault him for playing with that fear, Steven commented. What he lacks in tact and political savvy, you lack in just stepping back and thinking about stuff. Don't they teach you soldiers and special agents anything?
The glare was now directed at his alter. He really wished there was a reflective surface somewhere, but despite that lack of visual aide, he still saw Steven, saw his face, the same he had himself, and there was this small smile, those large eyes, that almost hopeful expression.
In retrospect, he should have done that: step back, assess the situation, analyze the facts. It was truly what he had been taught and drilled to do.
But he had been under constant pressure. Missions upon missions, keeping his alter's life safe from that of Marc Spector, until things… had spiraled completely out of control.
Khonshu had simply used that constant state of unrest, of pressure, to keep Marc Spector in line. He had never given him any rest, no moment to catch his breath, no time to think… because…
He doesn't want a new avatar, Steven confirmed.
Khonshu's head lowered and the darkness in those hollow sockets was filled with something that could only be described as ancient, endless energy.
"You belong to me, Marc Spector. You always have," he purred.
"I repaid my debts!" he replied automatically, defensively, that hot rage flaring briefly.
Sore spot. Really sore spot.
"You did."
"I belong to no one!"
"But you are my avatar still. Our connection was cut by the Council and yet… You bear the sacred armor. You are my representative. Willingly," Khonshu added with a smirk.
Without coercion. Without strong-arming him into service. Without actually being offered to bear that power, be the Moon Knight, in exchange for a second chance in life.
He wanted this.
As much as he hated it, hated the tactless, demanding jackass, he wanted him, too. He couldn't imagine a future without… all of this.
