Chapter Text
Coming to a stop in a dark alleyway, Marc listened for screams, shouts for help, any signs showing a traveler of the night in distress. The shadows surrounding him did little to conceal his stark white outfit. He didn’t care as he prowled forward, through the night, looking for trouble, knowing he would be able to catch everyone who was set running by his appearance.
No, there was no need for stealth, not with how powerful he felt, energy drumming under his skin, making even a moment of rest impossible. So he was out there, hunting, always on the move. A glance at the full moon above, bathing in its light, electricity shot through his veins.
He was powerful, strong. The moon shared everything with its favorite knight. But something was tingling at the back of his head, that this was not right, something that sounded suspiciously like Steven. Steven, who for the past week had been pushed to the background, as Marc had no time to waste on the mundane civilian life, the need under his skin too great. Instantly guilt crawled up his throat thinking about his alter, and the life he had promised him, and was now denying him as he took full control of the body against their agreement to share equally.
But before he could sink into dark thoughts and wake his alter, who was peacefully sleeping in the back of his mind, the moonlight burned away everything, leaving him feeling weightless.
That more than anything was proof that something was off, that Steven was right when he softly prodded if Marc was feeling okay and what was going on. Because Marc never felt good, was never just content. Not since the cave, not since he had lost everything. There had always been something, mostly guilt, that ate him alive. Not even on his wedding day had he been free of it, feeling like a scam as he was pretending to be normal, as if there was not a complete other person inside of him his wife didn’t know about.
But now here he was, patrolling the street and feeling fantastic, better than ever. Was this a new trick of Khonshu to make sure Marc followed his orders as his knight? Make sure he didn’t question him as he became nothing but a tool?
Instantly he stiffened up, clinging to his realization, afraid the moonlight would take it away as well. But no, it stayed, his thoughts even clearer than usual as the paranoia and panic were swept away. It was weird how good it felt. That for once he was not overwhelmed by the worst case scenarios running to his head. Which meant he instantly knew what to do to get to the bottom of this.
“Ey, Khonshu,” he called out, no apprehension when it came to calling for the god, for once not feeling small and out of control. But where usually the condescending voice of the god rang out, there was only silence. Frowning, Marc looked around, not able to believe the other was not here to micromanage and criticize all of his actions for once. And as he thought, there he was perched on top of a roof, his staff leaned against his shoulder and looked down at Marc. But despite having heard the call, he didn’t approach.
Now that he thought about it, ever since Marc had returned into his service two months ago, Khonshu had been strangely passive. He hadn’t even called Steven worm once, not even when Steven had accidentally taken over during a mission and nearly butchered it before landing a lucky hit on their opponent. This new development had been a very welcomed surprise, as Marc always felt anger whenever someone was putting Steven down, even if it was a god.
After some discussion, they had attributed it to their replacement, when they had been free after Harrow's defeat, not being very good. In Steven's words, the stupid pigeon could now finally appreciate them after seeing the other options. And what other reason could there be for Khonshu’s sudden change of heart and him appearing before Marc again just half a year after their parting? He even offered him a new deal for being Moon Knight with way better conditions.
At first, Marc had been reluctant, not wanting to take away Steven’s newfound stability in his civilian life. But he had to admit, he himself was not built for it. Had forgotten how to blend in and be normal when he took his first life. He wanted to do something, no matter the danger, but knew he could never go through with it and risk Steven’s life needlessly. But with the offer, and Steven’s blessing, he agreed to return to Khonshu’s service. A blessing Steven must by now surely regret, as Marc had been running around like a mad man hunting sinners by night for a week.
Which brought him back to the current situation with one ignorant bird.
“I know, you know what is going on here. So mind filling me in?” Nothing but silence, the tilt of Khonshu’s head the only acknowledgment. “Aren’t we partners now? That means you can’t keep important shit from me anymore.”
“Doesn’t it feel good, Marc Spector? All the power at your fingertips?” The voice suddenly rang out behind Mark, and it was only sheer determination keeping him from flinching, as the spot the god had previously occupied was now empty. Turning to face him, Marc had a scroll on his face, hidden by his mask, but he hoped the god would feel the sentiment anyway.
“That's not the point. I wanna know why!”
Khonshu hummed in thought, but when he spoke, it was not what Marc wanted to hear. “There is a traveler of the night in need of saving nearby. Your questions can wait, my Knight.”
Marc scowled, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Why can’t you ever give me a straight answer? You can’t keep dodging my questions forever.”
The god’s glowing eyes flickered with an emotion Marc couldn’t quite place. “But then my lifespan far surpasses yours.”
Marc sighed, but he knew there was no use arguing with the god. “Fine. Where is this traveler?”
Khonshu pointed towards the eastern part of the city, his form flickering in and out of sight as he guided the way. “A few blocks away. There is a young woman being pursued by dark forces. You must reach her before it’s too late.”
Without another word, Marc turned and sprinted towards the indicated direction, his white cape trailing behind him. The city streets blurred as he pushed himself to his limits, the urgency of Khonshu’s words spurring him on.
As he rounded a corner, he spotted the woman. She was running frantically, glancing over her shoulder as a group of shadowy figures closed in on her. Marc’s eyes narrowed in determination. He couldn’t let them get to her.
With a powerful leap, he descended upon the pursuers, his fists and crescent darts flying. The element of surprise was on his side and with the strange power flowing through him the attackers were swiftly incapacitated. The woman, wide-eyed and breathless, stumbled back, her fear palpable.
“It’s okay,” Marc said, his voice soothing despite the adrenaline still coursing through him. “You’re safe now.”
The woman looked up at him with a mix of relief and awe. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
Marc gave a curt nod, his gaze shifting to the unconscious forms of the attackers. It was only a question of time before they would wake up. But since he refused to kill, a term he and Steven had been firm in their new contract, the police would just have to hurry and get here to collect them. Which left the woman, slim and shaken, in the bad part of town. What she was even doing here he couldn’t imagine, but some people were like this. Feeling untouchable and safe until a bad decision made their security grumble.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
As he escorted the woman to safety, Marc couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, even penetrating the haze the moonlight offered him. Another even clearer indicator that something was off was the light. The alleyways they were moving in were dark, with high buildings on either side blocking the light. Even in the ritual armor, Marc should have been shrouded in gray, but he was almost glowing as the light literally clung to him. When they stepped under an overhang blocking the sky, he was still illuminated as the light creepy in behind him and stretched towards him.
It was obvious enough even the woman, still unsettled from the previous encounter, turned when they stepped inside a building and the light followed them in, wounding around clutter blocking its way until it licked at Marc’s feet.
Marc himself would be feeling far more unsettled by the mysterious magic happening if it didn’t feel so warm and comforting. Every brush of light was a warm touch to his back, pushing him forward, a promise to protect.
Whatever was happening now, it was for once in Marc's favor. Once the woman was safe, he would have to interrogate Khonshu again. And if that fails, stick Steven on his case. For how timid his alter was confronted with his boss at work or even a barista making his order wrong, one would not expect how forcefully he could stand up against a god. Even Marc would never have dared to speak to Konshu the way Steven did. It often annoyed the god enough to let some valuable information slip.
But the woman didn’t know that the light was on their side, and she clung to him.
“It is alright. Once we get out of this building, we will be on a popular street close to a station.” Marc tried to calm her. This was the part of the job that always made him uneasy. He could win a fight, take a beating and even come back from the dead. But this? Confronted with a civilian in distress, he never knew what to do. It reminded him of the times Layla cried, and he could do nothing, but stand there as she held onto him, no words coming to mind that would make things better. No, that had always been Steven. The kind and understanding one, who tried to fix everything with words. But Steven was still deeply asleep and in no shape to front.
“Thank you” her voice shook as she pressed even closer to him.
Marc kept his eyes on the shadows, alert for any further signs of danger. “Just a little further,” Marc reassured her. They had almost made it, but his instincts were screaming at him. Only he didn’t see anything.
It was already too late. The woman pulled away from him as pain seared through him, and he cried out. He stumbled, his knees suddenly gone weak and looking down he only saw an ornate handle sticking out of his chest. But how? No one should have been able to get close to them. He had made sure of that!
Was the woman safe? Or had they gone after here as well. Eyes flickering up, he looked straight at her. Her eyes, once filled with fear, were now cold and calculating.
“Why?” Marc gasped, losing his fight to stay on his feet as blood colored his suit red. He sank to one knee, coughing violently. Red specks sprayed onto the cold, dusty floor, the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth.
Marc's hand moved to the knife protruding from his chest. If only he could pull it out, then the suit could start healing him. Khonshu still needed him. There was no way he would let them die, again. The mere thoughts of the underworld scared him, of how close he had gotten to losing Steven forever. His alter was haunted by it as well, regularly waking up screaming. He didn’t want to talk about it, but Marc was sure he remembered being taken by the sand.
As his fingers brushed the handle, a surge of electricity coursed through Marc's body, jolting him with a searing pain that left him gasping for breath. His muscles tensed, locking in place as the shockwave spread from his hand to every nerve ending. When his thoughts had finally cleared enough, he had instinctively pulled his arm close to his chest, and it was tingling and numb. When he willed away his glove in the area where the knife had made contact, Marc saw that his palm was scorched black, the flesh charred and raw. Small tendrils of smoke rose from the burnt skin, carrying with them the acrid scent of burning flesh. He could feel the heat radiating from the wound, as if the electricity had seared its way deep into his bones.
A high, cheerful laugh filled the air, making him flinch. The woman had crouched down smiling at him as she took in his suffering.
“It’s no use, Moon Knight. That blade is enchanted. One last gift from Ammit herself. How fitting it will ensure the suffering of the one who took her from me.”
This was about Ammit? Marc had not forgotten about her, about the pain she had caused. But with them being victorious over her and Harrow unable to do any of her bidding anymore, he had thought it was over. That they would have peace and could start healing from that chapter of their life. But here their past , his past , was haunting them.
It was getting harder to breathe as panic and pain filled him, but he couldn’t give in, couldn’t let go of his iron grip on the body. If Steven fronted now… No , Marc could not let that happen. He had to get out of here, survive. If not for his own sake, then for Steven.
New determination filled him as he reached out, trying to pull out the knife anew. With each attempt, the knife seemed to dig deeper into his chest. Marc's vision blurred and his strength waned. The pain was relentless, gnawing at his senses and threatening to overwhelm him. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he gritted his teeth, his muscles straining against the relentless grip of the enchanted blade.
The woman watched with amusement, her laughter echoing through the dimly lit room. “You can struggle all you want, Moon Knight. But that blade is bound to you now, a part of your very being. You'll never be rid of it until you die.”
Marc's mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan, but his head was empty as tears rolled down his cheeks and he curled into himself on the ground.
“If only Khonshu was here to see you.” Her sing-song voice dragged him back from the darkness he had started to slip into. Konshu. The god would be disappointed in his failure, after all it had been Marc’s job to make sure he stayed in fighting shape. Although maybe he was giving himself too much credit. He was just a mortal, after all. It would be easy enough for Konshu to replace him in due time. He would find someone else, someone better.
“His precious knight reduced to a sobbing mess. He would be devastated. Serves him right for daring to stand in Ammit’s way.”
All of Marc’s thoughts, his struggle, came to an abrupt halt at her words. He couldn’t stop the giggle breaking loose, even as it set his chest on fire and took away his last breath. It was just too hilarious, the mere idea that Khonshu, the Khonshu, could care for him.
“Khonshu... Khonshu doesn’t care about me. I’m just his tool.” Marc pressed out between fits of giggles. Well, even if he died here, he at least had the satisfaction of knowing she had been wrong and wasted a precious artifact trying to hurt the bird.
“You really believe that?” she sneered, her voice filled with disdain. “Look at you. Even now, his light is desperately trying to reach you.”
What? Marc blinked dimly at her, following her outstretched hand to the light that was still leaking into the building, but unable to reach him now. But that couldn’t be. That had just been a trick of Khonsu to get him to follow his orders without question or rest. It didn’t mean he cared.
Suddenly, the air grew heavy, and the temperature dropped as Khonshu's towering figure materialized in the room. His skeletal beak and glowing eyes cast an eerie light, illuminating the shadows and making the dark corners of the room dance with sinister shapes.
Marc was so exhausted he could barely shift his head to look at him, before casting them away, not wanting to see the disappointment. Not that his childish behavior helped hide his vulnerability. When had pretending you didn’t see ever helped? Not once had faking ignorance stopped his mother.
The woman on the other hand was staring at Khonshu, caught between shock and awe. It took Marc's exhausted brain a few moments to figure out what was wrong with that. Even if Khonshu made for an imposing figure it was usually just Marc that was able to see him. Not even Harrow as his previous avatar had been able to see him. But she was looking straight at the god. Was she perhaps even more powerful than he had thought, and able to see what others couldn't? The thought of it sent shivers down his spine. He was already outmatched with the knife alone.
“Marc Spector, you are not merely a tool. You are my knight. You must survive.” Khonshu's voice boomed through the space, filled with an authority that sent shivers down Marc's spine.
Khonshu's gaze shifted from Marc to the woman, his eyes burning with fury as he stepped threateningly towards her. The divine presence made the air crackle with energy, and shadows seemed to deepen in response to his anger. The woman, though initially shaken, straightened up and forced a defiant smile. "You can't hurt me, Khonshu," she said, her voice steadying. "You have no power without your knight. You're just a ghost, a shadow of what you once were."
Khonshu's form loomed closer, the air growing colder with each step. "Do not underestimate the bond between a god and his chosen, mortal," he intoned, his voice a resonant echo that seemed to come from all directions. "My power flows through him, and through him, I can act."
Her smile widened, and she took a bold step forward, meeting Khonshu's gaze without flinching. "But he's dying," she retorted, nodding towards Marc, who was struggling to maintain consciousness. "And without him, you're nothing. You can't touch me, can't affect the physical world. You're useless, and you know it."
Marc, hearing her words, felt a surge of anger and despair. She was right; his strength was waning, and with it, the connection that allowed Khonshu to manifest his will.
A shiver ran through Marc when she stepped past Khonshu, with a grin like the cat that got the canary. He tried to push away, get some distance, but he was too weak. Crouching next to him she pushed his sweat soaked hair from his face.
"Step away from him." Konshu's staff hit the ground with a bang. Marc was sure if he still had feathers he would be all poofed up. He felt strangely adrift, like when he was backseating and watching Steven go about his day. Only there was no Steven. Marc was alone.
Her hand wandered to his chest, her finger carefully caressing the handle of the knife, as Marc's breath started speeding up in panic. Looking over her shoulder she winked at Khonshu before pushing it in deeper.
Blinding pain exploded in Marc's chest and he screamed desperately as he twitched on the ground with the currency running through him. Tears streamed down his face as fear grabbed him. She hadn't let go, he was alone, no one would be able to save him. She would be able to toy with him as much as she wanted until he finally bleed out. She would-
BAM!
Suddenly, the woman was violently thrown to the side, crashing into the wall with a force that left a dent. She crumpled to the ground. Marc, barely able to process what was happening through the haze of pain, glanced up to see Khonshu standing protectively over him, his eyes blazing with fury and staff still stretched out.
"No one is allowed to touch my knight and hurt him like this," Khonshu declared, his voice echoing with divine authority.
Marc's eyes widened in shock. He had always believed Khonshu could not interact with the mortal realm except through him. Even Harrow himself had confirmed that all Khonshu was able to do was create wind as he threw tantrums without any real consequences to the world.
But seeing the woman with blood slowly pooling around her it was obvious that this was no longer true. Since when was he able to do this? Or had this always been a thing and Khonsu had decided to watch Marc struggle without intervening all this time?
The onslaught of questions made Marc dizzy as he tried to come in terms with his worldview being completely overthrown.
As he knelt beside Marc, Khonshu's form seemed more solid than ever. When he reached out towards Marc’s chest and the knife stuck in it, Marc flinched back, scared he would touch it and sent more electricity through Marc.
“Peace. I only mean to help. Not harm.” The words did little to reassure Marc. This was Khonshu after all. Even if their relationship had improved slightly there was no way Marc could just trust it. But then it was properly his only chance to get the knife out and survive.
So he tried to be brave and didn't show any weakness as Khonu’s bony fingers wrapped around the handle. One last breath and he pulled. This time the shock was unlike all the previous ones and despite Marc trying not to, everything faded to black for a moment.
He could only have been passed out for a few moments as he was still on the ground and in pain when he gasped awake.
“Steven,” he whimpered, praying his altar had not been awake no matter how short the time had been. He had never wanted Steven to know any of the stuff he did as an avatar, and even after the man found out and had come to terms with it Marc wanted to protect him at all cost. He shouldn’t have to suffer because Marc was unable to live a normal life.
“Be at ease. He was not allowed to surface.” That gave Marc pause as it was quite considered for Khonsu to make sure Steven wouldn’t be involved. His world spun, not from the lack of blood, but from how strange Khonshu was behaving. First the light, that if the woman was to believe, was because of Khonsu Then the god himself stepped in when Marc was injured and had no way out. And now? He even followed Marc’s wishes to keep Steven safe. Was it possible for a god to be replaced by another? Would any of them even play tricks like that? He didn’t know enough about the gods to see if something like this was possible. Steven would know, he was smart.
Konshu’s large hand hovered over Marc's chest, spanning the whole of it, and Marc felt a warm, tingling sensation as Khonshu's power flowed into him. Before his eyes he could see the wound close, faster than any other before. But it didn’t stop there as the power continued to fill him, way after there wasn’t even a scar left and his power had been replaced. It made him dizzy and he drunkenly swatted at the hand until the flow of energy stopped.
“Are you refusing me,” the words were harsh, clearly Khonshu’s pride had been hurt, but Marc had promised Steven he would no longer just endure and stand up for himself if the situation required it.
“Too much,” his words were slurred and he frowned. Over time he had built a high alcohol tolerance, much to Stevens dismay. But it means he had not had trouble with his speech in quite some time.
Getting up he was faced with a bigger problem as his limbs didn’t want to cooperate, stumbling and falling forward preparing for the impact with the ground.
It never came as he landed against something soft, a musty smell surrounding him. Blinking open his eyes he looked up to the underside of a bony beak. Damn, he was leaning against Khonsu, embarrassing . But when he tried to pull back a strong arm around his back stopped him.
“It seems my power has been too much for you.”
He sounded amused, but Marc felt too drunk to be sure of it. He was just glad he didn’t have to stand on his own and easily followed when he was led toward the exit.Only when they were standing outside under the moonlight did he stop.
“Wait… the woman.” Marc was in no state to deal with her, but leaving was also not an option. As vengeful as she was, she would be back to finish what she had started.
“Don’t fret my knight. She is no longer of this world.”
“Are you allowed to do that?” Marc felt like it had to be against the rules for a god to go around killing people. But who knows, he had also thought gods couldn’t interact with the mortal realm until he saw Khonshu smack the woman around.
Khonshu chuckled softly, the sound echoing like distant thunder. "It seems my intervention has ruffled some feathers among the Ennead," he remarked, his voice carrying an air of both amusement and defiance.
Marc's eyes widened in alarm at the mention of the Ennead. The last time he met them ended with Khonshu bound to stone and him and Steven dying. And that had been for messing with the sky and not taking a human life. Before he had wished for Khonsu to be gone but now he was afraid.
Clearly Harrow's followers were not done even with their leader missing and they would do anything to get revenge. And without the god’s protection Marc was clearly vulnerable. He couldn’t let Steven die again.
"Are we in trouble?" Marc asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Khonshu placed a reassuring hand on Marc's shoulder. "Fear not, my knight. The Ennead may question my actions, but they cannot deny the bond between us," he said, his voice resolute.
Khonshu wrapped his cape around Marc hiding from the world, as it felt as if the ground was disappearing from under his feet. Holding on desperately to the other Marc blinked when everything was solid again and the cape was pulled back. In the soft light of the fishtank Gus 1 and Gus 2 were swimming, undisturbed by their owner’s sudden return.
“What?” A soft push to his chest and Marc fell backward landing on his bed, looking at the ceiling. The blanket was dropped on him as his eyes grew heavy.
“Rest now my knight. I will keep watch.” Reassured Marc couldn’t help himself as he fell asleep.