Chapter Text
“Sit, I’ll get the heat going.”
Jake put a hand on Steven’s back, already feeling the coldness of the other’s skin through his shirt. He tore his mind away from thoughts of 'Steven wearing my clothes’ and focused on guiding him over to one of the beds. The smaller of the two sat nervously on the edge of the mattress, hands folded in his lap as he stared downwards with a distressed gaze.
“W-where did Marc go?”
“No te preocupes por eso.” Jake said firmly. He walked towards the radiator, staring at the steel structure with narrowed eyes. Just from looking at it, he could tell the damn thing was clearly busted. But it’s not like he expected anything better from a place like this.
“Those things are still out there.” Steven’s voice trembled a bit at the end.
Jake avoided eye contact, and instead glared at the old piece of equipment on the wall and wished he had his tools. It looked like the heating equivalent of a seized car engine. Wouldn’t take long with a pair of vice-grip pliers and a socket wrench, neither of which he had right now. He clicked his tongue, and gave it a rough strike with his boot. “The pendejo will be fine.”
“A-and what if they come here?”
Jake looked up, watching the other carefully. Steven was still sitting stiffly at the edge of the bed, but his hands were now curled into tight fists. His eyes were distant and unfocused, the way someone gets right after they come down from a panic spike. The radiator let out a high-pitched clank behind him, something in the pipes rattling, and Steven flinched back at the loud noise.
It was strange to see the normally bright and smiley little sunbeam acting like this. Just the sight of it felt… wrong. Unhappiness really didn’t suit him. Jake stood with a frown. He knew he had to get rid of whatever was distressing him. Or do something to make Steven feel better. And yet, Jake also knew that he was completely and hopelessly out of his depth here.
He approached slowly, sitting down at the side of the bed so he could look directly at the other. Jake gave him a crooked grin. “No pasa nada. I hit harder than anything out there.”
The younger of the two tried to smile, though the attempt wobbled and fell apart in a matter of seconds. Jake shifted uncomfortably. What was he even supposed to say? He wasn’t good at this shit. He didn’t know how to be comforting. He couldn’t fix this with a teasing joke. He couldn’t distract Steven with sarcasm. And—as tempting as it sounded—this wasn’t something he could solve by making Steven blush so hard that he just stops feeling upset.
Jake briefly debated offering the other a cigarette, but quickly scrapped the idea. He had no idea how Steven would react to nicotine, and it could easily make the situation worse. That, and Marc would put a bullet in his forehead.
Take care of him. His brother’s voice echoed in his mind, and Jake immediately wanted to punch the guy telepathically.
“Oye.” He tried. “Look at me.”
Steven lifted his gaze uncertainly. Jake tried moving closer, and when the other didn’t flinch away, he took it as a good sign. So what if he wasn’t good at any of this? So what if he’d rather fight fifty criminals blindfolded than navigate whatever the hell was happening in Steven’s head? He was gonna fucking try. “Eso es bueno.” He murmured. “Good.”
“I… I’m scared.” Steven admitted.
How was he supposed to sound comforting? Well, when he didn’t know how to do something, his mind defaulted to his best guess. Jake steeled himself, and softened his voice in a way he had never done in his life. “I know, precioso. Can you take a deep breath for me?”
It wasn’t until the words left him that Jake realized he had unknowingly started to do a shaky impression of the person in front of him. Or, it was an impression of how Steven normally spoke. Apparently, somewhere deep in his mind, this was what comfort sounded like to him. It sounded like Steven.
He decided not to linger too long on the implications of that.
The younger one took a sharp breath in, then exhaled shakily. His shoulders loosened a little, and Jake nodded firmly. “Good. Keep going.”
Inhale. Exhale.
“I’ve got you, okay?”
Inhale. Exhale.
“You’re safe now.”
Inhale. Exhale.
“You’re safe.”
Inhale. Exhale.
Jake reached out, hesitated only a second, then rested a hand on top of Steven’s. His fingers were warm against the other’s shivering ones. “You’re safe.”
Steven’s eyes went wide. The younger one seemed to freeze under the unexpected contact, his breath halting. It was just as Jake was about to retract his hand—sirens blaring in his mind as he frantically grasped for several different apologies, all too stupidly abbrasive—when he felt Steven slowly relax. Muscle by muscle, smaller fingers intertwined with his.
Steven took another deep breath. “I’m… I’m safe.”
Jake suppressed an audible sigh of relief. An unfamiliar warmth spread out from his chest, and he couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips. Unconsciously, his thumb started to trace idle circles on the back of Steven’s hand. “That’s right, cariño.”
Steven’s hand was so soft.
“You have nothing to be afraid of.”
Fuck, he wanted to…
“Not long as I’m here.”
And then, gradually, as if his brain was coming out of some kind of fog, Steven blinked.
Once. Twice.
Then very slowly, he turned those wide eyes toward Jake.
“…Why are you here? Both of you?”
Jake’s hand stilled. “We were in the area.” He said simply.
“You… were in the alley.” Steven’s brows furrowed. His expression turned inward, eyes thoughtful, like he was trying to work something out far too quickly for his mouth to keep up. But that didn’t stop him. His mind was waking up now. Steven frowned, his expression sharp, precise, and too clever for comfort. Shit.
Steven had been so panicked and frightened, it had nearly made Jake forget how smart he was.
“And the man kept saying the monsters were coming…” Steven mumbled. “That was right before you showed up.”
He looked up at Jake.
Jake braced himself, expecting to see an expression filled with fear. But he found none. Not a single drop of fear. Not even anger. There was only a hesitant look in his eyes. Like he already knew the truth, but didn’t want to believe it. It was as if Steven had just finished assembling a puzzle, but was absolutely refusing to put down the last piece of the picture.
“Jake, what really happened out there?”
The room stretched on in silence, heavy and tense. Finally, Jake let out a ragged breath. His body was stiff as he forced himself to keep his gaze, to meet Steven’s eyes. It took every ounce of willpower to do it. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to watch it happen, to see the fear take shape in Steven’s face. But he had to tell him. No matter how much he wanted to avoid this, he wasn’t going to.
“Lo siento. I’m sorry.” Jake tried to keep his voice as even as he could. “We never wanted you to see us like this.”
Steven’s breath hitched.
Then, he jerked his hand out of Jake’s as if it had burned him. Jake felt something deep inside of himself crack painfully. “Steven, those were not good men. They murdered dozens of people. Families. Children.”
Silence.
“We were sent here to stop them.” He continued, voice steady. “To end it before they could hurt anyone else. To bring justice.”
Steven’s eyes flickered, he shook his head. “You… you sound like Khonshu.”
Jake ran a hand over his face, trying to steady himself. Of course he sounded like him. It didn’t matter how much he resented the rotten old skeleton, the god raised him. This was all he knew. Khonshu’s training wove itself into the fibers of Jake’s very being. He taught him how to think, how to speak, how to exist. But Jake wasn’t Khonshu.
“I’m not like him. I don’t enjoy it.” Jake grunted.
It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.
He didn’t enjoy killing. He didn’t enjoy hurting people. In those moments, he felt sick. He loathed the approving hum Khonshu made whenever either of them performed well. That bird’s grating, smug words of satisfaction, a command disguised as praise. All he could feel was a strange mix of burning fury towards the god and a cold weight in his chest that made him want to crawl out of his skin. An ugly combination of fire and ice he’d never learned how to name.
But the fight—that was different.
Jake had always loved fighting. He thrived in combat, relished the chaos of it all. He enjoyed the adrenaline that buzzed in his veins, making him feel alive in a way nothing else ever did. The rush that settled over him like a second skin when the world fell away and all that remained was primal instinct and survival. The clarity of knowing exactly who needed to be brought down, exactly where to strike or shoot, and exactly what he had to become.
It was complicated. And it didn’t help that the god who raised him was a vengeance-addicted lunatic, and was all too eager to fan the flames of Jake’s guilty pleasures.
“Maybe that man was right in calling us monsters. But sometimes, the only way to fight monsters is with other monsters.” Jake admitted quietly, voice rough around the edges. His gaze flicked toward the dark window again, jaw tightening. “This is our duty as avatars of Khonshu. Everything we do is to protect innocent people from harm.”
The room was quiet after that, save for the radiator groaning in the corner. Steven didn’t look away. He didn’t look fully at Jake either, but the hurt in his expression softened slightly, replaced with something fragile.
“...I don’t think you’re monsters.” Steven whispered. Jake’s eyes snapped up incredulously.
“Your job is violent. Your responsibilities are bloody. And you’re… dangerous.” He bit out. Jake grit his teeth, a heavy feeling washing over him. “Anubis told me as much. He warned me, and I didn’t want to listen to him. Now I know he was right about that.”
Jake’s voice cracked. “Steven—”
“But he’s still wrong about everything else.” Steven looked up at him.
“You aren’t the same as the god that raised you. You didn’t choose to live like this. You were chosen by him, and placed into the life that he wanted for you.” Steven continued, his voice becoming more and more resolute with each word. “And that’s just how it works, so you do what you have to do.”
The smaller one’s tone wavered slightly with emotion. “You follow him, even though you don’t necessarily agree with his methods. Maybe it feels so unfair, but you do it anyway.”
At that moment—it clicked.
And Jake realized he wasn’t sure Steven was talking about the twins anymore.
“Being his avatar means that you have a responsibility, but that doesn’t mean that you think like him or believe the same things he does.” He shook his head, and took a deep breath before speaking again.
“You and Marc are your own people.” Steven’s eyes were shining, his voice determined. “And I believe that you’re good.”
For the hundredth time, Jake was struck by how truly unbelievable the person in front of him was.
“You don’t need to keep layering me in blankets, you know.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. He grinned as threw another quilt over Steven’s shoulders, effectively ignoring the other’s protest. The smaller one looked a bit like a cocoon now. But the damn radiator still wasn’t working, even after Jake tinkered with the practically prehistoric hunk of scrap metal for over an hour. In his defense, he could’ve fixed it if he had the right tools. Steven decided to put a stop to his efforts once Jake began using weapons on the useless thing.
What a shame that Marc took his rifle scope, it would’ve made a perfect wrench.
“I’m not quitting until you stop shivering, precioso. Now—get ready for another one!" He threw a blanket onto him, the corner of it flopping unceremoniously over Steven’s face. And for the first time that day, Steven let out a small laugh. Jake instantly wanted to bury him in twenty more quilts. Anything to hear that sound again.
“You good in there, precioso?” Steven peeked out, a small grin on his lips as he nodded. Jake just snorted. “As nice as these blankets are, I don’t want you suffocating.” He said. Steven suddenly stiffened, something shifting in his eyes the moment the last word left Jake’s lips.
He watched as the younger one’s mouth quickly dipped into a frown. Steven curled in on himself, and Jake racked his brain for what he could have possibly said to make the other deflate like a balloon. Steven’s eyes flickered toward Jake, then away again.
“…Can I ask you something?” Steven said.
Jake raised a brow. “Ask.”
Steven’s voice wavered. “Why are you taking care of me?”
Jake blinked. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” He said flatly, too baffled by the idiotic question to even think about controlling his tone.
“We’re not supposed to be around each other.” Steven’s voice was quiet. “Anubis is going to be absolutely livid. He really hurt you the first time, and now it will surely be even worse. You would be better off leaving me alone.”
Jake frowned. Then with a click of his tongue, he approached the small bundle on the bed with a serious look. “I’m not afraid of him. You shouldn’t be either.”
“I’m not afraid! He forbade me from—”
“Forbade you?” Jake resisted the urge to scoff. “¿Quién es él? ¿Una especie de rey?”
“And I was so awful to him this morning. I said so many things I shouldn’t have. He’s already so disappointed with me and if… if he knew I was going behind his back and—gods, it would kill him.” Steven murmured into the blankets.
“Qué alivio.” He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.
“I can tell you’re being mean, Jake!” He whined. Jake’s lips tilted into a small smirk, glancing back—but his grin fell upon seeing the expression on the younger’s face.
Steven looked conflicted, his guilt-ridden stare boring holes into the bed.
“Hey.” He said softly. “Mira, none of this is your fault.”
He sat down on the bed. Close enough to see the tremble at the corners of Steven’s mouth. “Precioso.” He said, firmer this time. Steven’s eyes lifted, huge and undoubtedly guilty.
Jake huffed a tiny breath. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You just think you have, because your god is un pedazo de mierda controlador—”
“Jake.” Steven warned weakly.
“—vale, vale. I’ll say ‘strict.’ Como quieras.” Steven’s mouth trembled as Jake’s face turned serious. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up complex Anubis has been giving you, but it’s all bullshit.” Jake reached out and brushed a stray curl off Steven’s forehead. “I’m taking care of you because you are wonderful and you deserve it. That’s it.”
A tiny, reluctant smile tugged at Steven’s lips.
Jake relaxed, grinning lazily as he leaned back. “Tch. Can’t believe you’re starting to catch onto my insults, precioso. That takes all the fun out of it.”
“Well, that’s because I can still understand the tone of your voice.”
“I see. So, I just have to smile and sound happy when I do it. Lo conseguí, gracias.”
“Jake!” Steven groaned, though he couldn’t quite keep the exasperated grin from his face. Jake just nodded seriously. He put on his best attempt at a bright expression, and spoke like he was announcing good news. “¡Ese perro es un pinche cabrón!” He said with a smile.
Steven snorted, which eventually turned into a long string of laughter. The smaller sent him a look, eyes filled with mirth. “It still doesn’t work!”
“Why not?”
“Your smile!” He said in between his laughter. “It’s clearly fake!”
Jake furrowed his brows. “¿Ah sí? And how can you tell that my smile isn’t real?”
Steven shook his head, laughter dying down. “I… I think you have a certain look in your eyes when you’re really happy.”
“What look?”
Steven tilted his head thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he extended his arm out of his blanket cocoon. Gently, Steven’s fingers wrapped around his hand.
Jake stiffened, eyes going wide.
Steven studied his eyes curiously. After a few seconds, a triumphant smile grew on his face, as if he saw…
…Oh, this little—
Jake tugged, abruptly pulling Steven a full two feet closer. The smaller one yelped as he lurched forward, falling out from the pile of blankets. Suddenly, he was face-to-face with Jake, the younger one practically in his lap. He could feel Steven’s chest stutter and breath hitch, and Jake smirked as the face in front of him quickly blossomed into a deep shade of red.
Too easy.
“¿Qué pasa? Thought you liked looking at my eyes.” Jake said, his breath brushing against the other’s cheek.
Steven’s brows shot up, and in an instant, he let go of Jake and rocketed himself backwards. “I-I meant… uhm…” He stammered, burrowing back into the pile as if it could save him. Jake was tempted to show him otherwise, but decided to take mercy on the figure currently hiding himself in the blankets.
At the same time, the window slid open.
Marc swung in, suit dissolving away as he crossed the barrier of the windowsill. Jake didn’t fail to notice Marc carefully getting rid of the parts of his suit that had the most blood first. Marc looked at the two of them. He studied them silently for a bit, eyes lingering on the buried figure with an observant precision.
“Él lo sabe.” Jake said simply.
Marc’s eyes widened, shoulders stiffening.
Steven’s head popped out, all traces of embarrassment gone, and eyes widening at Marc’s arrival. “Marc! Thank the gods—you’re back! Are you hurt?” In a flurry of blankets, he jumped off of the bed, enveloping the other in a tight hug. “I’m just fine. Are you…?” Marc trailed off, looking at the smaller with uneasy eyes. Steven frowned, leading him strictly to the other side of the room where Jake was watching them. “Come here. We need to talk.”
He motioned for Marc, still tense, to sit down. The bed dipped with all three of their weights. Slowly, he took both of their hands. Jake stared at his brother, who also seemed to be sending out the mental signal of panic. “Listen. I understand that this is what you need to do, it’s your responsibility. You shouldn’t have to hide it from me. I’m an avatar too, you know.” He said, voice small.
The twins sat there, not quite knowing how to respond. Steven looked at each of them, his eyes determined.
“But, I need the both of you to promise me one thing.”
“What?” Marc asked.
“Promise me that you won’t kill unless it is absolutely necessary.”
Jake knew it was more complicated than that. Marc knew it too, if the strained look he was giving him meant anything. The very idea was too naive, too sentimental, too hopeful. Too Steven.
Both of them nodded. “Of course.”
The youngest of the trio squeezed their hands in his. “Good.” Steven let out a long breath, and Jake felt something tug at his conscience. But he was far too relieved to pay the feeling any mind.
“I trust you.”
Steven stood in front of the sand portal, his robes still slightly wet from the handwashing they did. It was slightly uncomfortable on his shoulders and knees, but still much better than being soaked in blood. Regardless, the three of them weren’t able to get it to dry completely.
“Sorry, princess. Maybe you can tell him that you fell in a puddle.” Marc said next to him, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No need for that. I think it will dry before I get home. I have to stop at the library first anyway.” He gave the twins a sheepish smile at their confused expressions. “Oh! Um, that’s kind of where Anubis thinks I am right now. I think I’m going to stick with that story.”
Jake hummed, a grin on his lips. “Look at you, precioso. You’re getting sneaky.” His smile turned devilish as leaned down closer to Steven. “Estás aprendiendo bien—”
Marc grabbed his brother by the back of his collar and yanked him away. “Knock it off.” He grunted. But when he looked at Steven, there was a tiny grin tugging on his lips. “Although, he has a point. Didn’t think you’d be one to hide things from your guard dog.”
Steven sent him a half-hearted glare. In the back of his mind, he realized with a great deal of guilt that the name didn’t offend him quite as much as it used to. “Well, if I told Anubis that I was in the middle of a gunfight, or that I was covered in blood, or that I was with you two—” He cut himself off with a harsh sigh. The god would go insane. Steven would never be allowed outside of the temple ever again. Not to mention the hellfire he would rain down on the twins. It wouldn’t matter if it was against council rules, Anubis would find a way. “It would be… bad. I still don’t know why I even ended up there.”
Marc folded his arms, frowning slightly. “Yeah. That’s the real question, isn’t it?” He glanced down at Steven. “Why did it dump you in the middle of our fucking mission in the Alps? The magic should’ve sensed that a situation like that is too intense for you.”
Steven swallowed, tugging lightly at the edge of his damp sleeve. “I don’t know. It’s never done that before. I just follow where it opens, I don’t know how to control the destination like you guys do.”
Marc raised a brow. “Well, sometimes the sand portal can respond to intent. That’s how we control it. All it takes is to follow your attention. Your focus.”
Jake nodded. “Sí, you think hard enough about where you want to be, about what you want to see, and—there it is. Por ejemplo… you want to go to the safehouse, you think of the safehouse.”
“But it’s not easy. It usually takes a very strong concentration.” Marc stepped forward, gaze sharpening. “What were you thinking about right before you stepped through?”
Steven’s brows furrowed, trying to remember the events earlier in the day. He remembered going to the pyramid. He remembered being distracted. He remembered feeling frustrated. He remembered feeling… feeling like he all he wanted was to see—
His eyes went wide. Oh.
Oh.
“I-I don’t really remember!” He stammered. “Probably a fluke. Anyway, I should get going.” Steven said quickly, voice pitched too high with flustered urgency. He swiftly pivoted closer to the portal. When he looked back, he saw that Jake’s lips had curled into the beginning of a faint smirk. Marc’s gaze had softened, his expression still steady but touched with an unmistakable note of fondness.
“I guess… I’ll see you around, then?” Steven said, feeling like he wanted to bolt but also like he really didn’t want to leave. The twins were staring at him, because of course they were. For a brief moment, Steven was thrown back to when they first met. There they were, the scary twins with the staring problem—just as intimidating as they were fascinating.
They unfortunately still had the staring problem, but Steven wasn’t scared anymore.
Jake’s smirk deepened. “You will. Lo siento… unfortunately, you’re never getting rid of us.” His tone was teasing, but the flicker of seriousness in his eyes was impossible to miss.
Steven huffed a soft, disbelieving laugh. Marc grinned.
“See you soon, princess.”
Lying is wrong.
Steven knew that.
He had never been good at lying to Anubis. Not because of fear, but because the idea of disappointing the god felt unbearable.
But technically… he wasn’t lying. He was at the library.
Steven let out a shaky sigh as he shuffled between the towering shelves, letting the faint scent of old papyrus and candles calm him. Although, it was not quite enough to settle the flutter in his chest. He trailed a hand along the spines of books as he walked, trying to let their steady presence ground him. Eventually, he stopped at a section of the library where the air felt quieter.
Advanced Protection Magic.
Of course. His feet had carried him straight to this area out of pure instinct, as if he’d been instructed to. He stared at the row of heavy tomes for a moment. His hand lifted automatically, fingers hovering over a dark green volume whose spine he could identify by touch alone. He’d studied it so many times over the years, the endless hours of reading burned into his memory.
But he didn’t touch it.
Instead, he withdrew his hand slowly, frowning as something strange enveloped his heart. Something defiant. He turned away, brows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut as he walked past the aisle’s end.
“Ah!”
Steven yelped, his eyes snapping open as he slammed face-first into a tall figure. The stranger was carrying a large stack of tomes, and quickly shifted as the tower of books began to lean sideways. Thankfully, only one of them fell on the floor.
“S-sorry!” Steven stammered, quickly picking up the fallen book. The young man tilted his head, his long brown hair brushing against his shoulders with the movement. He gently set down the stack of books on a nearby table. “It’s alright.” He said simply.
Steven lifted the book, glancing at the title. Judgement of Souls Vol. VIII. Huh, he hadn’t read that one before. Maybe he had seen it in Anubis’s collection? Steven quickly handed it back to him. As the stranger extended his hand, the ends of his long, dark red sleeves pulled up slightly to reveal the beginnings of a design on his arm. It was gone in a fraction of a second.
“My mistake. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Steven apologized. Cold blue eyes met his, and he briefly wondered if the stranger was going to be angry at him. Surprisingly, the young man simply gave him a small smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it wasn’t unfriendly either. More like… practiced. Polite for the sake of being polite.
“Neither was I. You weren’t the one with a face full of books. No harm done.” He said, voice smooth in a way that made Steven straighten without meaning to. Steven exhaled, a little sheepish.
The stranger gave a soft hum, studying him for a second longer than what Steven thought to be normal. As if committing Steven’s face to memory. It made his chest prickle with unease. Before Steven could say anymore, the young man gathered his books again, shifting them easily into his arms despite the stack’s size. “Well,” He said, inclining his head, “I must get these returned. Good day.”
Steven blinked. “…Oh, um…bye!”
The stranger smiled, giving him one more once-over before he left without another word.
Steven didn’t remember the last time he had felt anxious about seeing Anubis. If he was being honest, he didn’t think he ever had. Growing up, the jackal had been nothing if not a source of comfort. There was a time where Steven would have done anything to spend every waking moment together. Their bond had been that way from the beginning: Steven trailing after him through the temple halls, clinging to the hem of his robes, asking endless questions, and Anubis somehow answering every one of them with warm affection in his voice.
The torches burned low as Steven walked through the entrance, the flames casting a soft glow along the walls even as the sun was still burning bright in the sky. It felt familiar, safe in the way it always had. He stepped forward, and stopped when he saw the tall shadow waiting near the central pillar.
Anubis stood completely still, hands folded neatly behind his back, his posture dignified and perfect as always. Despite how he appeared, Steven saw that his ears perked when Steven appeared, a tiny tell that his attention had been fixed on the doorway for… likely far too long. Steven offered a smile, small but earnest. “I’m back.”
Anubis didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze swept him from head to toe—checking for injuries, Steven realized with a familiar pang. When he spoke, his voice was somehow even more worried than Steven had been expecting. “Are you alright? How did it go?”
“Good.” Steven said. He wasn’t sure how to go about this. Maybe talking too much would make him sound suspicious. But talking too little also seems suspicious, doesn’t it? Anubis looked like he didn’t quite believe him, but the god simply gave him a gentle, worried touch to the shoulder before letting out a sigh. “We… must talk.”
Steven’s stomach knotted. “O-okay.”
The god’s shoulders stiffened—barely, but enough for Steven to see the hesitation. “I am sorry for what happened this morning.” Anubis began, voice carefully controlled. “I spoke to Taweret. She chose to offer her opinion, as she tends to.” He added, sounding faintly resigned rather than irritated.
“I do not wish for you to feel suffocated by me.” He said. “That was never my intent. I only want to protect you, but I also do not want you to be… unhappy.”
Steven’s eyes widened. What?
“I have let my fear hurt you. That ends now.”
He let his next words land softly, giving Steven time to take them in. “You may leave the temple whenever you wish. Anywhere in the city that you desire to go.”
Steven almost fell over. “Really?”
He had never been more shocked in his life. He hadn’t expected this. Not from Anubis, who usually doubled down when stressed, not loosened his grip.
Was he dreaming? Did he trip on the steps to the temple, and fall unconscious? “I will allow it.” Anubis said softly, each word tense and laboured. Steven could tell how much the god didn’t want to be saying them, and at that moment, he knew it was real.
He needed to thank Taweret next time he saw her. Maybe a gift, too. She likes those flowers that grow in Anubis’s gardens. He’ll pick a hundred of them later.
But, for now…
Steven practically tackled the jackal in a hug, cheerful laughter spilling out of him like it had been trapped in his chest for years—bright, breathless, and impossible to hold back. He wrapped himself around Anubis, the action easy and familiar, and squeezed. “Thmmnk ymph!” He buried his face into the other’s tunic, his words muffled. The god hugged him without hesitation, warm and steady as he let out a fond chuckle.
Steven pulled back with a grin he couldn’t contain. And as Anubis looked down at his excited expression, the god’s posture shifted with anxiety. “Steven, I am not stopping my vigilance entirely. There will be rules.” Steven’s pulse stumbled.
“You will stay in Heliopolis, you are not to travel to Earth unless for an approved soul guidance.” The jackal said firmly. Steven nodded. “And,” Anubis continued, voice dropping heavier, “you will not seek out Khonshu’s avatars. You are not to see them, speak to them, or involve yourself with them in any way.”
The air tightened. Bit by bit, the change from moments before reverted back, replaced by the rigid protectiveness that Steven recognized all too well. “They are dangerous, and I will not see you harmed.”
Of course.
Of course he would never budge on the one thing Steven really wanted. Anubis’s head tilted as he studied the teenager. “What is wrong?” Steven swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. “I’m just… stunned. I didn’t expect this.” Steven murmured, not meeting the god’s eyes.
“Hm.” Anubis said, not rejecting the answer but not accepting it either. His hand lifted, fingers coming up to cradle the other’s cheek.
“Steven...”
The teenager’s throat tightened. He lifted his eyes to meet Anubis’s, hoping the trembling in his chest didn’t show in his face.
“Did you see them today?”
The question came out like a warning, his words unmistakably serious. The lie rose before he could stop it.
“No.” Steven breathed. “Of course not.”
For a moment, Anubis simply stared at him. His golden eyes were unmoving, unreadable, and Steven had the awful sensation of waiting for a verdict that would either cradle him or crush him.
Then Anubis stepped forward and placed a hand on the back of Steven’s head, drawing him gently toward his chest. “Good.” Anubis let out a long breath, and Steven felt something tug at his conscience. But he was far too relieved to pay the feeling any mind.
“I trust you.”