Chapter 9: Mending

The next day Steven woke up with a fresh wound in his tight and blood drenching the bed sheets.

You had only just crawled out of your hammock yourself, tired, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling when Steven's panic meter gave an alarm. You switched him out with Marc without thinking. That turned the fear into anger, Marc letting out another hateful tirade at the Third.

The wound had been disinfected and bandaged up but it was very obviously fresh and deep and if it had been Jake who'd gotten it during yesterday's mission, it should've been healed by the suit but it wasn't.

Their body had been shot. The bullet had gone clear through the tight. Marc checked, unwrapping the bandages, even getting some forceps to dig into the flesh to look if the bullet was still inside but it wasn't. He wrapped it up again and cleaned it and cursed some more and refused Steven's hesitant suggestion to see a doctor. There was no way they could explain a wound like that.

You knew you should call Jake, ask him what had happened. It was your job to know what was going on. You needed to be aware all the time so you knew when to intervene.

But you were just… You were so tired.

So you merely watched as the boys called in sick at work once more.

They couldn't walk properly. Every step caused them enormous pain. Even hopping through the flat on one leg was painful and they were all out of groceries.

Steven was terrified to involve May in any of this but he nagged at Marc until eventually, he agreed to call Layla for help.

She stood before their door not even half an hour later.

"Jesus, Marc! You look horrible", she said as a way of greeting when he let her in. "What happened?"

"Fuck if I know", Marc muttered and limped over to the open kitchen area, letting himself fall down on a chair.

"How did you get hurt?" Layla asked worried.

Marc grunted. "A bullet went straight through my leg."

"Oh my god. Were you attacked?" She came over to him but stopped when her gaze wandered over the flat. Over all the sticky notes. The pieces of smashed mirror everywhere. The circle of sand around the bed. Her eyes widened.

"I don't know what happened", Marc admitted quietly. "I blacked out. I… We…" He rubbed his face, the exhaustion from a sleepless night and too much stress clear on his face. "Moon Knight was in the paper. Fighting freaking Spider-Man of all people. And Steven and I have been having blackouts that neither of us can explain. Yesterday night, I was sure that Khonshu was near. I didn't see him but I know he was there. And then I had this terrible headache and then… nothing. And we woke up with blood all over our bed."

Layla sat down next to him slowly, speechless.

"You think… You think there's a third alter? One that's still working for Khonshu?" she whispered.

Marc shrugged, too tired to be angry anymore. "It's too obvious to ignore at this point, isn't it?"

"Oh Marc", she made.

And then she hugged him. And after a few tense, stiff moments of silence, Marc melted into her embrace and he clutched at her. And he cried.

And you cried too.

Because you did that. You caused Marc such pain. It was your fault. You failed your job and you messed up and now Marc was hurting. Because of you.

With a trembling hand, you pressed the button to ping Jake. It didn't matter that you were tired. It didn't even matter if Jake was tired. Marc needed help. Maybe you two had a tendency to make things worse but right now, you were the only ones who could help.

Jake looked just as bad as you. Eyes red-rimmed, hair tussled. But he answered you without complain.

"Hey David", he said quietly.

"Hey Jake", you answered, forcing a small smile on your face. "The boys are... I… I slept through last night. And they're… C-Can you give me a recap?"

Jake made a sigh that seemed to last forever.

"Yeah. Sure", he said at last. And he told you the story.

Khonshu had Jake break into one of Blackwell's private residences. There was security everywhere and not the gentle kind either. Almost all of them had died from Jake's bullets. He uncovered the entrance to a secret basement and he found the staff. But when he'd left the building again, mission complete, stepping in between the mess of bodies he'd left… Suddenly the staff had started to glow. And then all the bodies around him rose again. They didn't come back to life, not really but they attacked him anyway. And it didn't matter when Jake shot them because a hole in the chest might stop a human but it didn't stop the dead.

He'd lost the staff and barely made it out of there alive.

"Then Khonshu appeared", Jake continued in a small voice. "Told me to get back in there. Into a den of fucking zombies, David. There was nothing I could do. How do you even fight these things? I… I needed fire or at least a proper big ax or something to disassemble them. Even if I had the staff, that thing's got a will of its own. What was I supposed to do, carry it through the city like that? So I told him no. I told him I needed a proper plan, I needed to come back later, I'm shit at this David, Marc's the one with the plan! Even Steven would know better what to do. Khonshu didn't much like that. He told me to get you instead. And I refused again. I have no idea what he did to you, what he said to you but you were… you were not well. So I told him no. I told him to go away, to leave us alone. He freaking laughed at me. And I… I shot at him. Didn't do a fucking thing of course except piss him off. So then I shot myself. I figured if I couldn't walk, he couldn't make me go back there. That made him shut up. I dismissed the suit and I refused to put it back on and I made my way back to the flat."

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Jake had never purposefully hurt the body. He was all about keeping it intact. Marc tried that sometimes and it was your job to step in when he did. But there had never been a need to watch Jake for that.

"That… That's a pretty serious wound you gave them there", you said carefully.

"Fuck, I know." Jake clawed his hands into the brim of his top hat, pulling it deeper. "I didn't… I didn't think it would be so bad. Just maybe leave a bruise or something. I just wanted to make a point. But apparently, Khonshu thinks I'm very much deserving of punishment." He sounded bitter. You knew that face, that expression. Self-hatred was usually only Marc's thing. Not Jake's. Jake wasn't supposed to be like this.

You sighed. Jake was a mess. Marc was a mess. Steven was a mess. You, you could not afford to be a mess too. You had to be strong for all of them.

"It's okay, Jake", you said. "We… We just need a break. I get it. Khonshu still needs us. We'll summon the suit again in a few days, when the dust has settled and it'll all heal over then."
"You're not mad at me?" Jake asked, sounding vulnerable.

"I'm not mad at you", you promised. You didn't think Jake could take it if you too were mad at him. "You… You were protecting me. In your own way. I get it."

Your friend's shoulders sagged in relief. He let go of his hat and gave you a little, watery smile.

"Thanks, David."

You turned your attention back to the main screen.

"What do we do now?" Jake asked, following your gaze. Layla was whispering reassurances to Marc as she held him, holding him close.

That was the big question, wasn't it? What to do now?

"Can't we just… do nothing?" you asked in a small voice. "Just… Get a few days rest? Let them calm down?"

"...Yeah", Jake made after a moment of hesitation. "Yeah, rest sounds good. Rest sounds amazing. Call me when the apocalypse is near?"
"I'll call you when the apocalypse is near", you promised.

With that, Jake logged off and you curled back into your hammock. You didn't dare to go to sleep, listening with one ear still so you wouldn't miss any alarms.

Steven and Marc would have to run the show alone for now.

They didn't want you anyway.

XxX

Steven limped his way up the steps to May's house, a crutch under one arm and a slight grimace flickering across his face. The bandaged wound on his upper thigh was bothering him more than he let on—his movements were stiff, cautious. He lifted his hand to knock on the door, his knuckles hesitant against the wood.

May answered quickly, her warm smile brightening when she saw him. But as soon as her eyes dipped down to the crutch, you saw her expression change—concern knitting her brow together. "Steven, what happened? Why are you using that?"

Steven offered her a sheepish smile, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, this? Bit of a stupid accident, really. I tripped… err, over a stack of books at the shop. You know how it gets there, clutter everywhere. Twisted my ankle real bad." His voice was light, but there was an awkwardness to his tone. He was lying, of course. It was obvious by the way his shoulders tensed slightly. He didn't know how he'd gotten the injury, and that uncertainty was gnawing at him.

May's worry didn't entirely fade, but she seemed to accept the explanation with a small sigh. "You've got to be more careful, Steven. You're always so lost in your books. Come on in. Peter's upstairs, but he'll be down for dinner in a bit."

Steven smiled gratefully, limping his way into the house. You watched him glance around, his eyes darting to the familiar corners of May's living room. He seemed more anxious than usual, like he was looking for something—or maybe someone—who wasn't there. His gaze lingered on the picture frames, on the polished surface of a vase. Looking for a reflection that wasn't his. But Marc was out like a light, the stress of the last days having caught up to him. And you sure as hell weren't going to show yourself.

May led him into the kitchen, where the smell of some rice dish filled the air. Steven sat down with a small sigh as he rested the crutch against the side of the chair.

"Thank you, May," he said softly, his usual gentleness returning. "It smells lovely in here. I'm sorry for just inviting myself over like this on short notice."

You watched him carefully, noticing the small tension in his jaw, the way he seemed to be bracing himself. He was working up to something, but you didn't know exactly what. Not yet.

May gave him a kind smile, setting a glass of water in front of him before going back to stir the pot on the stove. "Oh no, if anything you should've called sooner. You live all alone after all. Do you need help with groceries? I could come over and cook for you sometime."

Steven shook his head. "I can have those delivered, thank you. It's very kind of you to offer though. I just…. I've been holed up in the apartment for two days and I'm going a bit stir-crazy there." He laughed nervously. "I just needed to see you."

"Peter will be down in a minute," she said and gave him a short kiss. "He's been busy with some school project, you know how he is."

Steven nodded absentmindedly, glancing toward the stairs, as if expecting Peter to come bounding down at any second. Then, after a pause, he cleared his throat. "May… I wanted to ask you something."

She turned, raising an eyebrow as she wiped her hands on a towel. "What's that?"

Steven hesitated. You could see it on his face, the way his eyes flicked toward the table, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his glass. He was trying to find the right words, trying to be subtle, but Steven wasn't exactly great at subtlety.

"I've been, um… feeling a bit off lately," he began, his voice careful. "Like… I don't always remember everything. It's been happening more often, and I just—well, I was wondering if… if I've been acting strange at all? You know, like… out of character?"

May's brow furrowed as she sat down across from him, concern crossing her features again. "Strange? What do you mean, Steven?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "I don't know, I just… I've been having these moments… Mood swings. And when I come to, I… I'm not sure what I've been doing." His voice dropped slightly, as if he was afraid of admitting it out loud. "I was just wondering if maybe you or Peter had noticed anything… unusual about me lately."

May's eyes softened, and you saw her reach across the table to place a gentle hand on his. "Steven, if something's going on, you should see a doctor. Maybe you're just stressed but if you're having memory problems, it could be all kinds of things. I've had some serious concentration problems a few years ago and it turned out I had vitamin B12 deficiency. As a vegan you would be especially vulnerable to that. If that's not remedied it can lead to serious nerve damage."

Steven stared at her for a few long moments. You noticed his panic meter lowering to nearly zero, which didn't usually happen unless the boys were asleep.

"May", he said then, perfectly serious. "I love you. God, I think I really do. You're like a light in the darkness." He kissed her then, soft and gentle and she smiled and kissed him back.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious, Steven. You've never been anything but a perfect gentleman to me. The only mood swings I could name are you wavering between confident and shy, like right now."

Steven chuckled a bit but you could tell he was relieved, leaning his forehead against hers as he basked in the light she brought him.

Their moment was interrupted when Peter appeared at the top of the stairs, coming down slowly, for once lacking his usual youthful energy. He seemed to wince with every step, actually. He paused when he saw Steven sitting there, his gaze flicking to the crutch, then back to Steven's face.

"What happened to you?" Peter asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

Steven gave him the same awkward smile he'd given May earlier, repeating the lie about tripping over books at the shop. Peter didn't seem entirely convinced, but he didn't push the issue.

As they sat down to dinner, Steven continued to subtly probe, trying to gauge whether Peter or May had noticed anything strange about him recently. You watched his face closely, noting the way his eyes darted between them, the faint tension in his expression every time he asked a question that seemed too pointed.

"So, Peter," Steven said casually, halfway through dinner. "I've been meaning to ask… have I, um, seemed… different to you lately?"

Peter blinked, looking up from his plate with a frown. "Different how?"

Steven shrugged, trying to play it off. "I don't know. Just… anything weird. Maybe I've said something that didn't sound like me, or… I don't know, maybe I've been acting strange?"

Peter looked at him for a long moment, and you saw the faintest hint of suspicion in his eyes. He didn't say anything for a beat, just kept chewing thoughtfully.

Then he shook his head. "You're always weird, Steven," he said with a smirk. "But no, nothing… weirder than usual."

"Uhm… what exactly is my usual weird?" Steven asked.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. You being uhm, as old as you are and still being able to beat me at Mario Cart?"

"I did that?" Steven asked, baffled.

"Yeah, last time you were here. Ned and I have been trying to break your record but we've had no luck."

Steven looked confused, yet also slightly hopeful.

"And, uhm, you don't mind that, that I… play, uh, that game with you?"

Peter raised a brow at him. "No? Why would I? It's boring anyway to always only play against Ned."

You leaned a bit closer to the screen, a small, hopeful smile curling around your lips. You liked hanging out with Peter and after all that rejection you'd faced recently, it was nice to hear at least one person didn't hate to have you around.

"And is that… all we've been doing? When I'm here? Just, like, placing games?" Steven asked uncertain.

"Why do you ask?" Peter wanted to know. "You were right there."

"Steven's been having some memory troubles lately", May said. "I doubt it's anything serious but really, it wouldn't hurt to check with a doctor, honey."

"Uh, yeah, I've been planning to make an appointment…" Steven claimed.

Peter was still scowling. "Well I don't know what to tell you. We just… hang out. Talk about school, play with the playstation, sometimes chat about the latest news…" To his aunt he said: "Steven's a bit of an Avenger's fan."

"He is?" May asked surprised at the same time that Steven asked: "I am?"

You blushed a bit, biting your lip and looking to your feet. You wouldn't call yourself an Avenger's fan. It was just… The Avengers were true heroes. The way Moon Knight had never been. When you first donned that costume, you had that silly notion that maybe you could be like them, instead of being… well, like Marc. But of course you knew now how stupid that was. You would never be a hero, superpowers or no. Moon Knight was not that kind of game. Sure, it had all the marketing of a superhero show. Your room, plastered with posters and merchandise, was a testament to that. But Moon Knight had always been way darker than other superhero stories.

"Yeah, you said you liked Thor and Black Widow and… Spider-Man", the last name was only mumbled just before Peter took a sip from his water.

Steven looked baffled.

"Well, they've been quite the big topic in New York, ever since the Invasion", May said. "It's like nobody can ever just be neutral, people either love them or hate them. They saved the city of course, and they brought back half the universe when the Snap happened… So I can't really understand the people who hate them. Spider-Man especially is a bit of a local legend because he's almost exclusively active in New York. Our very own city hero, he is", May said with a bit of pride.

Peter blushed red and coughed up his last mouthful.

"You alright, mate?" Steven asked worried.

"Yeah, uhm that just went down the wrong tube", Peter said.

"I… I read in the newspaper the other day that Spider-Man was fighting some… some new guy in a costume", Steven said hesitantly. "Have you heard of it?"

Peter winced and his hand went to his stomach, not looking at anyone. "Uh, yeah. Heard of that. Some villain in a moon costume."

You flinched in parallel with Steven.

"I don't know where all these guys keep coming from", May complained and filled her plate with a second helping. "The world didn't use to be like this. But nowadays it's as if every major city has to have at least one superhero and for every hero we get nine metahumans that are scum."

"Does anybody know why those two were fighting?" Steven wondered. "I mean, what has that moon guy done that Spider-Man would attack him?"

"I have no idea", May said. "There was nothing about that in the paper."

"I've heard… rumors at school", Peter said. "That Moon Knight is some sort of super violent vigilante. You know, the kind that leaves bodies."

"Oh my, how terrible", May said and Steven's shoulders slumped.

"Moon Knight?" Steven echoed. "I-Is that… Was that in the paper?"

"Err… I don't know? Must have", Peter said. "Or maybe I heard it somewhere. People always give strange names to costumes."

That name had not been in the paper. And you very much doubted anyone who saw Jake's work would call him a knight. Well, anyone but Khonshu.

After dinner was done Peter headed back to his room and Steven noticed that instead of almost running up, taking two steps at a time like he usually did, he moved slowly, using the railing as he went.

"Is everything okay with Peter?" he asked worried.

"Oh, he had a bit of an accident at gym", May said. "They were playing dodgeball and he got a big one right to the stomach. Got a giant bruise from it so he's been taking it slow", May answered.

"Oh. I hope he'll be better soon", Steven said.

"Don't worry about him. Worry about yourself! When you get your next checkup for your leg, you should ask them to do a blood test too. Just to be sure", she encouraged him.

"Yes, I will", Steven promised and smiled. "Well… it's late. I should probably head home."

"Oh. Well, yes", May made, sounding a bit disappointed. Then though her teasing smile was back and she stepped toward him, putting her hands around his neck. "Or… you could stay. You should move that leg of yours as little as possible. Why don't you let me nurture you a bit?"

Steven went as red as a tomato.

"I, uh, that sounds amazing, just… Is that a good idea? Peter…"

"Oh, don't worry about Peter. He rarely even leaves his room after 8pm." She stood on the tips of her toes then, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "And we happen to have thick walls."

Steven stayed the night at the Parkers and you went to bed early.