Samson looked down on his shorthand notes. Then back to Steven Grant again.

"An Egyptian god?" he echoed faintly.

Steven nodded. "A god of the moon. Of the night sky. Of healing and protection. But mostly, of vengeance. For some reason - that never made sense to me. I think he's just bitter because the Ennead kicked him out of the Overvoid. But we've been working on that too. We had this whole conversation with him and it's been agreed he should focus more on the healing, less on the vengeance, and work more closely with actual law enforcement and everything."

"And you are sure this god exists and is not part of a hallucination shared between you and your alters, because…?" Samson trailed off.

"Oh no, he couldn't be. Khonshu has real powers. Or well, we do, as his avatar", Steven hurried to say.

"What kind of powers?" Samson wanted to know.

"Well healing, mostly. When we're wearing the suit, we heal really fast from any injury."

Samson nodded, sporting a neutral expression. Healing, huh? That was definitely not a power he could in good conscience ask Steven to demonstrate and he wondered if that was a coincidence.

Steven Grant's delusions might go a lot deeper than just voices in his head and occasional memory lapses.

"Very well, I believe that is enough for today's session", he decided. He had a whole lot of reading up on Ancient Egyptian mythology to do if he wanted to keep up with his patient and spot any errors in his made up logic.

"Already?" Steven asked surprised. "Blimey, you're right, I didn't even notice the time pass. We'll talk about the cult another time then."

"Wait, what cult?" Samson asked alarmed.

Steven hesitated. "Oh, you know. This cult that wanted to raise the Egyptian boogeyman – I mean lady, a proper crocodile lady, called Ammit, that ate children's souls and stuff. It was a whole thing. I'll tell you next week."

Yes, Samson definitely had a lot of reading to do.

XxX

Chapter 6 - Onto Mount Doom!

"Why do you think Marc asked Khonshu to exclude me?" Steven asked Jake, while they were waiting for Layla to finish up in the bathroom.

"Ugh, I don't know", Jake made, still sleepy and curled up somewhere in the back of Steven's head, where he could only perceive dimmed and muffled impressions of their surroundings. It was a bit like stretching out on the back seat of the limo he drove for Khonshu. "Lemme sleep."

"Is it because he thinks I'm weak?" he worried.

"If it is, just show him you're not", Jake returned. "You've got some serious balls, Steven, taking all this shit without running for the hills. Show him that when he's back."

"Show him... my balls?" Steven said skeptically and Jake cracked up.

"I walked right into that one", he admitted when he recovered from his laughing fit. Steven smiled a bit but did not join in Jake's laughter.

"Is it true what Khonshu said? That Marc... That he was going to kill himself? To kill us?" he asked quietly.

Jake became silent.

"You were there, weren't you? Khonshu said we were injured and you come out when that happens, don't you?" Steven demanded to know.

"I was there..." Jake admitted quietly. "The temple was far in the desert. Must've been a recently restored one. It had this feeling of old building turned new again. An excavation project, maybe. Or mierda, maybe it was just fucking magic. Anyway, I don't know why we were there, in that desert. When I came to we were half dead already. There was a whole bunch of people. Two groups, one armed, one not, and one was slaughtering the other. I was dressed and armed like the others but... It was like Mar de Plata all over again. I got back on my feet. I fought. Tried to protect the unarmed ones. But there were too many. After... After the one group was dead, the other left me there to die too. But I refused. I stopped the blood flow and I stitched us up. I did what I could. I don't know if it would've been enough or not. It was probably a pretty damn long walk back to civilization. We were just stranded at some dig side or something and they destroyed all the cars they didn't take. I gave the body back to Marc. Figured he was the one who got us here, he should know which way was back. And if we didn't make it... At least he'd get to see the sky one more time, you know? Get a last chance at feeling peace. But he crawled into that temple and then he... He turned his gun against himself. That's when Khonshu spoke to him for the first time."

Steven was quiet, staring at his feet.

"I wouldn't have allowed him to pull the trigger", Jake reassured him. "I was about to take over. The moon stuff threw me but I wouldn't have allowed it either way. I'd have intervened."

"Did you have to do that before?" Steven asked. "Before... Or after that day?"

"...Maybe once or twice?" he hedged.

"Jake", Steven made. He sounded tired.

"Okay, more like five", he admitted. "But not since we got Khonshu."

"Good grief", Steven muttered and rubbed his face. "Just how messed up are we?"

"Much better since you got here, if you ask me", Jake replied.

"Can't you just... Tell me all? Let it all out in one go?" Steven asked.

"Uh", Jake made. "I kinda only got half the picture too, remember? Besides, there have been good surprises too. We're married, mi amigo! We're a freaking divine champion, how awesome is that? I got another little brother. This is a good thing!"

The corners of Steven's mouth twitched. "Yeah, I guess so. I can't help but feel like you're holding the worst parts back though, mate."

Jake faltered. "I... I don't mean to. You deserve to know everything and really, you ought to know. It's just... Not something that's easy to talk about." He chuckled nervously. "If I have to, I'll probably need a very long head vacation after. And I can't really afford that right now, not with Marc gone and the fate of the world at stake and all."

Steven sighed. "Okay, yeah, that's... That's a valid argument. Whenever you're ready then. I just... I just need you to answer one thing. Just one, okay? You don't have to elaborate, just say yes or no."

"...Alright", Jake made hesitantly.

"Are my... Are our parents alright?" Steven asked in a small voice.

Jake was silent. Of all the possible things, Steven wanted to know that?!

"If they're... If they're sick or in trouble, you would tell me, wouldn't you? If I could help them, you'd tell me, wouldn't you? Especially if we got healing powers?"

Jake felt like was being stabbed. Guilt and anguish and rage were all mixed up inside him and he had no idea what to say.

"Jake?" Steven asked.

Jake took a deep breath. "I can't answer that, Steven." Oh why did this all have to be so fucking difficult? He sighed and decided to be as truthful as possible.

"First of all, I don't know. I haven't seen or heard of them since High School. And you cannot contact them, Steven. You must not. Home is not safe. They're not safe. They're not safe for us to be around or even talk to. So don't, okay? Just don't."

Steven became very still. "You're scaring me, Jake."

"I know. I know and I'm sorry, I... I don't know what else to do. Please, just trust me. I haven't let you down yet, have I?" Jake asked desperately.

"... I think... I think I need to take a break", Steven said quietly.

And then he was gone and Jake sat in front.

"Mierda", he cursed and jumped to his feet. He knew it, he should've just kept his mouth shut. It was natural for Steven to be curious, especially after he found out he hadn't actually been in regular contact with their mother. Which Jake was really freaking glad about. He'd nearly had a heart attack when Steven called her. It would've been a fucked up mind game for her to play nice with a clueless Steven but he didn't discount the possibility. Thank Khonshu it was just a delusion. Well, Steven probably thought different. Jake should've expected that he'd prod more but he'd hoped the whole Moon Knight thing might distract him for a little longer.

"Everything alright?"

The bathroom door opened, revealing Layla fresh out of the shower, covered only by a towel. She was wearing a scowl as deep as the Grand Canyon and Jake wondered how much of their conversation she'd heard.

"No", Jake growled out. "Steven's been asking questions. The kind that neither of us is ready for. Now he's locked himself out of the house. Again."

He started furiously packing what little belongings they'd brought while Layla got dressed in a hurry.

"Let's get going already", Jake said once she was done, putting on his cap and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Jake..." Layla said slowly and she gave him that look, that look that he started to really fucking hate.

"Not now!" he snarled at her. Couldn't she take a hint?

But she went on anyway.

"I just wanted to say - not a question, I promise - that I'm there for you. If you want to talk to someone other than Steven but also... If you need someone killed."

"...What?" Jake snapped. He couldn't have heard that right.

But Layla was perfectly serious. More so, she looked angry.

"I googled your... condition. And what it's normally caused by. So, if there's anyone that's hurt you, that you haven't killed yet but really fucking deserves to die... You can tell me. Even - especially if it's a relative."

Jake stared at Layla as if he'd never seen her before. And maybe he hadn't. She'd just been Marc's wife. She was good with Steven so he tolerated her presence even if she might or might not have been the reason they'd temporarily lost Marc. But to see her this angry on their behalf, to hear her not just go along but wholeheartedly agreeing with Jake's favorite problem solving method, that... That meant something. He was actually a tiny bit touched. He should... Probably thank her. Let her know the offer was appreciated. He should -

"Mierda, you're hot when you're angry."

...or he could do that.

Layla rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Jake."

"So am I." He raised a brow, looking her over pointedly. Had her curves always been that perfectly squeezable?

"I'm afraid I'll need both of my hermanos to agree before I order a hit on our parents but I'll let them know you signed the petition", he promised her.

To her credit, Layla only flinched a little when he confirmed her suspicions.

Jake had never told anyone any of this before. Even the casual remarks he threw at Steven like breadcrumbs felt like regurgitating needles. But it was out now, however vague, wrapped up nicely in black humor and snark like bubble wrap, hurting just a tiny bit less that way. His hermano had to know, if only so he wouldn't run right into a venus fly trap, thinking it a beautiful flower. He wouldn't share any details, of course. No reason to traumatize the only normal person in their head. Steven only needed to know as much as would keep him from seeking contact. He doubted he'd ever get him to agree to outright murder but... The thought of Layla taking bloody revenge for them made him smile.

"Well, the offer stands", she said, crossing her arms in front of her. She probably didn't notice how that movement pushed her mounds together enticingly. Jake did. He noticed very much.

Layla gathered her own things and they left the hotel, on their way to the airport once more to catch a plane to Italy. Jake kept stealing glances at her, paying attention to that cute little scowl, the way her hips were swaying when she walked and how there was just a little skin visible between her shirt and the hem of her jeans.

"Say, Layla", he asked with a grin as they were on their way down to the reception, "what's your stance on polyamory?"

Her expression was priceless.

XxX

The closest a plane could take them from Munich to their destination was Nepal. Layla, with her usual ingenuity, had concealed the golden scarab in plain sight, integrating it into her necklace. She'd managed to craft the pendant so that the scarab's gold gleam fit right in with the rest of her jewelry, the chain also cleverly hiding two tiny, razor-sharp blades she could whip out as daggers if needed. They breezed through security and customs without raising any brows, but once they were through the checkpoint, Layla discreetly stowed the necklace back in her bag, giving Jake a look that said she'd covered all her bases.

Jake settled into his seat, deciding a nap was in order—not because he was tired, but because he figured it might draw Steven out to handle the long, uneventful flight. He doubted he'd be needed again until, at the earliest, it was time to throw the golden thingy into Mount Doom.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

When Jake next stirred, he sensed Steven was back, present and moving, and Jake took a back seat, content to leave the controls in his hands. He could just make out Layla's voice, explaining their flight details to Steven, updating him on the route they'd planned to take once they landed in Nepal. There was the muffled sound of movie dialogue as Steven started watching something, likely to pass the time. Jake felt the slight pressure of earbuds as Steven settled in, and with his guard lowered, Jake allowed himself to relax, thinking maybe he could even get some proper rest.

Then, the screaming started.

At first, Jake assumed it was coming from Steven's movie—a high-pitched, panicked shriek that sounded a bit too real. But then he heard more voices, urgent and terrified, and the distinct, chilling edge of bellowed orders. A child was crying somewhere nearby. Jake began to pay attention, and just as he was about to fully pull himself into focus, Steven's voice cut through the fog in his mind.

"Any moment now, mate. Come on, of all the times to sleep… I need you now, Jake!"

It was like waking up from a dream by being punched in the face. Jake came into awareness in a flash of light and color. His vision sharpened, and he quickly realized he was looking down at a pair of shaking hands—Steven's hands—holding his wallet, fumbling as he passed it to – a stewardess? Indeed, a petite blonde woman in a flight attendant's uniform stood next to a similarly dressed man holding open a bag with a few wallets, watches and phones inside. The woman was pointing a handgun squarely at Layla, demanding she empty her pockets of valuables. She held her gun with an unsettling steadiness, as though she'd done this a thousand times. Layla's face was impassive, her hands moving slowly, deliberately, as she reached into her bag. Jake could sense her calculating, probably deciding whether she could get to the scarab's hidden blades faster than the stewardess could pull the trigger.

Jake's mind raced. He had one second, maybe two, to assess their situation: two armed attackers in sight, probably a third one stationed at the end of the narrow corridor between the seats. The plane was high up, and any reckless moves here would not only endanger Layla and Steven, but every single passenger on board. One shot fired at the wrong angle could depressurize the cabin and spell the end for everyone inside.

"Everyone stay calm!" a man's voice shouted from farther down the corridor, loud enough to carry above the cries of the frightened passengers. "Nobody needs to get hurt if you all do exactly what we say!"

Jake struggled harder, trying to get forward, trying to get up front. It was harder than usual, the mental and emotional exhaustion of the last days having sapped much of his energy.

"That one too", the stewardess demanded, nodding towards the golden glint of Layla's necklace barely visible in her bag. Layla paused, her eyes flicking between the stewardess's cold gaze and the gun pointed at her. She grit her teeth, her jaw tightening as she shook her head. "No," she said defiantly.

"Layla!" Steven hissed at her, desperate, his eyes wide with fear. "Just—please, don't—"

But then everything happened in a blur. The stewardess lunged for the necklace, fingers reaching for the golden scarab, and Layla shot forward, one hand reaching for the stewardess's gun, the other arm throwing her weight into the woman. They struggled, limbs and fingers tangling, and then—

The deafening crack of a gunshot tore through the air.

Jake surged forward, the loud noise finally shaking the last of his lethargy, the haze over his mind vanishing as he fought to take control. Steven!

But instead of moving forward, he hit another wall, Steven's own resistance spiking like a barrier, blocking him out.

Steven's voice was a strangled cry. "No, no, no—Layla! Layla!" He reached for the woman now slumped in the seat next to him, pressing his hands over the dark, spreading stain of blood blossoming across her chest. His fingers trembled as he tried to stem the flow, panic and helplessness twisting his expression. Behind him, Jake could hear the triumphant rustling as the stewardess yanked the scarab free from the necklace and tossed it toward the man down the aisle, who caught it with an eager grin.

Jake pushed again, desperate. "Steven, let me handle this! These aren't ordinary muggers—they're here for the scarab! They won't let us out of here alive if we don't stop them!"

But Steven was unmoving, his focus entirely on Layla as he kept his hands pressed firmly to her wound, muttering frantically to himself, "No, you're not going to die—Layla, stay with me—Khonshu! Khonshu!" His voice rose in desperation, his eyes wild. "Please, Lord Khonshu, help me—show me how to save her!"

Jake was trapped in a whirlwind of anger and dread, banging against the barrier Steven had erected, feeling himself slide backward with every attempt to break through. He could see everything unfolding in flashes and fragments—Layla's blood on Steven's shaking hands, the satisfied smirk on the stewardess's face as she backed away, the scarab now clutched by the man in the aisle.

This isn't just a robbery, Jake thought, terror lacing his thoughts, not for himself but for the little brother he'd only just gotten. "Steven, let me take over!"

"IN A MOMENT!" Steven shouted, his voice tight and furious, refusing to budge as he pressed harder on Layla's wound. Jake felt a violent pushback, a spike of pain lancing through his mind as if he'd been kicked in the head by a horse. The sensation was so strong it made him see stars. His vision blurred, sounds fading in and out, a rising roar in his ears. Jake had one desperate moment of wondering if this was the end – and then everything went black.

XxX

AN: I like to focus on people interaction and conversations in my fanfic. The whole action aspect is really secondary and not as interesting to me. I'm just not very creative regarding that. But in this story, I made an honest effort and focused on trying to make the action scenes more visual. A fight in a plane raises the stakes and creates a unique scenery. Plus it makes sense, if Harrow can have cultists in a London PD, why not also at an Italian Airline? I think the alp village scene underlines that he's just very good at converting people very fast. Having an actual goddess and a real divine artifact back him up probably helps loads. Plus these events, though no obvious connection is given in the show, technically takes place in 2025 post-blib. I guess a lot of people are open to the idea of killing baby Hitlers after the whole Thanos thing so Harrow certainly has an audience.

Next week: Jake vs the Ammit cult in an airplane battle. Fun times!