The night had brought rain. A steady drizzle that was only once or twice interrupted by an hour of just damp air and lights reflecting off the puddles.
Marc didn't care as he stood on the roof, eyes on the almost peaceful and quiet night around him. They were located far enough away from the hubbub of the city center to get some of those nights. No night clubs, no twenty-four hour fast food places. It was actually a nice, friendly neighborhood.
Steven was asleep. Marc had been proud of his alter today, how he had handled the Ennead, the strength and unwavering loyalty he had projected. They had both grown in their own way, but they had also grown together.
Sitting next to him on the low wall that encircled the roof area, Khonshu was mirroring his Knight's silent vigil. Marc glanced at the entity, took in the unchanged appearance. Steven's words echoed in his mind. Khonshu had chosen to appear like this. It was always a conscious choice, not a projection, not something that had happened to him because of his banishment. That he hadn't changed his weathered appearance also meant that it wasn't a reflection of his state of mind, of shame, guilt or remorse.
"So this is it."
Khonshu tilted his head. In his seated position he was almost eyelevel with his avatar.
"It always was."
"You sprang it on them that you're… bound."
Something rippled through him. Not excitement. More like a viciously satisfied little whisper.
"Yes."
"To two souls."
"Yes."
Marc almost smiled; it came out as a little twist to his lips. Khonshu had enjoyed the theatrics, shocking the Ennead, boasting what he had achieved. Rubbing it in, he mused. Really well. Add some salt. Khonshu wanted them to know, wanted them to be aware of what he had become. Devious old bird.
"The others called it a risk. Because of the imbalance?"
"Possible imbalance. Yes."
"Then why? You couldn't know it was going to work!"
Khonshu hummed. "No, I couldn't know. Maybe it was an ancient instinct." He shrugged one bony shoulder. It was such a human gesture. "It was a calculated risk."
"Bullshit."
The deity chuckled. "It was a risk I was willing to take, Marc."
"Why?"
"It felt right. You felt right."
Marc gave him a doubtful look. He felt the fine spray of rain against his skin, matting down his hair, creating tiny drops that ran down his face.
"You're not a gambler. Especially with hopeless cases like us."
Khonshu was silent, but his sockets were on his avatar. Marc felt him everywhere. It wasn't an oppressive knowledge, a constant thought on his mind. No, it was a lot more subtle. Like a background hum, a soft presence.
When he closed his eyes, the suit crawled slowly over his skin, like a loving embrace, leaving his head free.
"You were never a hopeless case," the entity told him quietly. "An imbalance is only dangerous and possibly lethal if there is no hope."
He finally looked at the moon god again. "You didn't know what you would get yourself into when you made the offer."
Khonshu chuckled. "No god really does when choosing an avatar. Most choices are good. Some turn out to be… less good."
"Like Harrow?" he challenged.
"Yes. He was one of my greatest mistakes," the moon good answered calmly.
Marc fought another wave of unaccustomed jealousy at the thought of Harrow. The thrum between them was almost palpable.
Khonshu looked at him and there was the shadow of a crescent moon, a thin, thin sickle, barely perceptible, in the depth of those dark sockets.
"I only knew you were different, Marc Spector. It would truly have been a waste had you ended your life. That was why I offered the oath to you and not the other souls who had perished that night. I was right." Moon light glinted off the crescent top of the staff. Khonshu's voice held a faraway tone. "I haven't reacted to an instinct in a very long time. When you crawled into my temple, it was instinct. I had to have you. I also knew I wouldn't let you go. At least not without a good fight."
Marc snorted. "You threatened me into servitude."
The suit shivered around him, full of energy and warmth.
"You were quite contrary in your service. Almost from day one." Khonshu tilted his head. "It hasn't changed, but you have. You were my greatest challenge, but also my greatest warrior."
"Now we give you an edge," Marc said quietly after a long moment. "But you're also… limited. You accepted limits…"
"A limit doesn't equal a weakness, Marc. You should know that. Sometimes, a limit gives you the strength and power you never had."
"You old pals didn't agree."
"Unlike them, I am a warrior," he rumbled, proud and judgmental in one. "My Knights are warriors. We guard, we protect, we avenge, and we deal out justice. I punish the evildoers, but I don't eat their souls. We are a necessity, Marc Spector. The Moon Knight is a sentinel of the night, a protector of those who can't protect themselves, and the vengeance of those who couldn't escape a crime against them The Ennead only judge and rule."
Marc felt a sliver of excitement course through him. It was a restless little shuffle, holding back but still projecting how much some action would be appreciated.
After what had happened and how civil Khonshu had been compared to other times, Marc knew he was itching to work off that energy. And Marc had to confess he was looking forward to some action, too.
"They seem to have it in for you."
There was a soft huff. "They were wrong every single time I was summoned." He reached over and tapped the crescent moon adorning the armor. "I wasn't when I chose you, Marc Spector. I stand by my choice and I won't bow to their so-called judgment. I never have."
"You're never going back there. Never is a really long time," he quoted what Layla had said a long time ago.
"There was never anything there for me."
"Hathor?"
It got him a mildly amused snort.
"She seems like a friend."
"She was and still is. My past. A life I am not living anymore. A life I won't ever want again."
"You took a gamble."
"It paid off, as you humans would say." Khonshu was now right behind him, leaning down. The ribbons of his tattered shawl curled around the Knight's armor. "You are the strongest of all avatars, Marc Spector. Unique. And mine. You are my choice. Never doubt that."
"I don't." Not anymore.
Somewhere in the distance sirens could be heard. Police, Marc suspected.
"You really think they'll leave us alone?"
Khonshu straightened, the staff thudding down next to Marc. There was a surge of annoyance.
"They don't meddle in the affairs of humankind. They observe." He almost spat the last word. "Even knowing that it nearly got them obliterated, they would never change that."
Marc unconsciously rubbed a palm over the scar that was underneath the armor. Khonshu's reaction was a warm caress of moon energy over his skin that had him close his eyes, leaning into the insubstantial contact almost unconsciously.
It was time to work off that energy thrumming between them. As draining as the experience had been, the emotional discharge, the moon energy coursing through his system, and the need to work off all of that had him want to hit the streets.
"Got something for me?" he asked.
Khonshu's reply was dark, dark satisfaction and the prospect of a good fight.
He opened his mind and the hood smoothly covered his head, the mask in place. When the Moon Knight opened his eyes, they were the bright white of the energy of a full moon. He swung over the roof and headed into the night, excitement racing through him. It wasn't all his own. He almost laughed. Khonshu was just as eager to get the memories of the Ennead Council out of his head by doling out justice.
Steven woke in a rumpled bed, feeling a little bleary-eyed. He swung his feet over the edge and scrubbed a hand over his tousled head. It was already mid-morning, judging from the murky light inside the flat. The blinds were pulled almost closed, but they didn't keep out all the light.
He yawned and automatically looked at the memo board nailed to one of the wooden beams.
'It's Sunday, Steven. Left Friday night. Had some stuff to work through' was scrawled on a piece of bright yellow paper that had been torn out of somewhere and stuck to the board with a magnet.
Sunday. Right. Sunday?!
"You galivanted off into the night!" he blurted. "For two days? Two days? I slept for two days?"
He searched inward, but Marc wasn't awake, which told him that whatever those two had been up to, Marc had been exhausted by the end of it.
"Good morning, Steven Grant. Slept well?"
"Oh, up yours, you!" Steven muttered and gave Khonshu a dark look as he shuffled over to the bathroom. He didn't feel a single twinge and so far there were no bruises. "Is Marc okay?"
"Of course."
"You just had to go and work it out of your system?"
The low, dark laugh said it all.
Steven rolled his eyes. "Hope you had fun."
"We always do," was the simple reply.
Of course they did. He wouldn't read it in the newspapers, most likely. Or find any mention of what Moon Knight had done. Steven couldn't even be sure they had been in the country last night.
But Marc was fine, which was the most important piece of information.
He didn't hear or see anything of Marc for the rest of the day. Steven also didn't feel like he had been run over repeatedly by a bus, so that told him more than enough about those extracurricular activities. They had gotten enough sleep and whatever Moon Knight had been doing, it had been more of a vacation.
He went to work on Monday, shopped, made himself a simple dinner, then spent the rest of the evening reading the backlog of magazines on his desk while a documentary ran in the background.
Khonshu was a quiet house guest, keeping him company, answering the occasional question as was their little game.
"You worry," the god said as Steven aimlessly shuffled through some papers. "About the Ennead. About us."
It was already late in the evening and the few lights he had left on cast barely any light. The flat was dark, silent, the world outside muted through the closed windows. The lamp on his desk was enough to read by and the TV spread its own glow.
"Shouldn't I be worried?" Steven wanted to know, looking at the deity so closely interwoven with their lives.
A little over six months ago Khonshu would probably have given him quite a fright. Well, he had terrified him, chasing the clueless man through dark hallways, looming out of the darkness, or just a rather vicious voice in his head.
Now… Steven wanted to say it was still a novelty, but it wasn't. He had an Egyptian deity living with him, hovering in the background, sometimes never uttering a single word, and Steven still interacted with the entity like he was truly a roommate.
And he was.
"You know I will protect you."
He shot him a mild scowl. "I know. And it's not that that has me worried. Marc can hold his own in a fight."
"As do you," was the smooth addition, almost a purr. And Khonshu sounded… pleased. Actually proud.
Steven grinned. "I can. I'm pretty good, come to think of it."
He didn't have the flashy ceremonial armor and he didn't have the crescent blades, let alone the cool cape, but Mr. Knight was a mean fighter and those sticks broke bones. He had apologized profusely to the thug the first time that had happened. Well, the smuggler hadn't been able to hear him, being unconscious and all, but Steve had felt it was necessary to point out that he hadn't done it on purpose.
"You are. Yet you worry."
"The Ennead are pretty ticked off."
Khonshu sat back with an amused snort. "They always are."
"So nothing new? You go in and insult them, they get mad at menial stuff, you don't get banished again? Just another day?"
It got him a little head tilt. "Yes. I have been doing this dance for millennia."
"You don't play well with others. Got that right from the start." There was no vitriol in his words. It was almost like lightly pulling pig-tails. Steven plonked old files onto one another, hoping they wouldn't topple. "I still think it was… intense. They summoned you to judge your actions. Our actions. We did them a huge favor with that blade and they kinda tried to throw the book at us." He frowned. "The entitlement alone gives me blood pressure."
Khonshu hummed, amused.
"You revealed so much to them, too! You pulled a stunt that could have gotten you… well, blasted to smithereens or something!"
"No," Khonshu disagreed mildly.
"Or seriously hurt!"
"Debatable."
Steven stared at him, agitated and angry in one. "You showed your hand!"
"As much as I detest the Ennead for their meddlesome behavior whenever it suits their purpose, as they otherwise ignore blatant warning signs of a much greater danger, they are not the enemy."
Steven ran a hand through his hair. "Oh? Could have fooled me. Next thing we know we have bloody ninja assassins after us!"
The moon god leaned closer. "They talk, they threaten, they judge from a high horse, and they do imprison those who they belief broke any of their micro-managed laws, but they do not send out 'ninja assassins', Steven Grant."
Steven felt a weak little laugh leave his lips.
"We are not in danger. I told Marc the same."
Steven blinked. "Oh. Right. He… I'm sure he's worried, too."
Currently Marc was asleep, but he should have figured that his alter was also worrying about their safety.
Khonshu chuff was soft, warm, and he was suddenly close. A wrapped hand stroked over Steven's cheek.
"As different as you are, as alike you are when you protect what you love. Both of you protect fiercely. We are safe, Steven. All of us. I cannot be separated from you. You cannot be torn apart."
"Yes, well, sorry about the anxiety thing…" he said softly. "Happens. Will happen again. Sorry. And thank you. For everything."
Khonshu regarded him solemnly. "I protect my avatar."
"And we protect our soul-bound," Steven replied, voice low and serious.
