Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Y/N stared at her open suitcase, even though everything was neatly folded and packed, it seemed like she was battling her luggage. She continued to use all her might to keep the suitcase shut as she tried to zip it closed but the clothes within threatened to erupt.

Even though it was barely 11 of the morning, it was still too early for her to be using all the energy on packing her things. With an annoyed mutter beneath her breath, she leaned her body weight onto the top of the case, “Why won’t you fucking close?”

With enough pressure, she finally used her free hand to zip the suit case shut. She stood up and took a deep breath and fixed her hair, “See, was that so hard?”

After her grunting, she took a second to listen to the movement of the house. There was none. The only thing she could hear was the quiet chatter of her parents waiting in the living room.

Walking out of her room one last time, she looked back to make sure she had everything before walking into the living room. Immediately she was met with the aroma of the pozole her family ate last night. Now thinking of it, there won’t be much of that to where she’s going. Her mother's delicious home-cooked meals, the comforting routine of her own house, and the familiarity of everything around her - all of it would be left behind as she headed off.

Once in the living room, she saw her father sitting on the couch with his arms crossed as her mother stood beside him. Once they noticed her, they all turned to face her.

Her father, as always, showed no expression but her mother showed a bit of worry.

“Ya empacastes todo?” her mother asked, glancing down at the grey suitcase that her daughter held.

*you packed everything?

“Si,” Y/N nodded.

Her mother only nodded. Y/N understood why she was acting like this, afterall, she was the youngest of her three siblings. When she said that she wanted Y/N to go to college, she didn’t mean one that thousands of miles away.

She tried giving Y/N the silent treatment for the last few days, believing it would make her feel guilty and stay. It didn’t obviously.

Y/N could have gone to a university or even a community college near by, but it was already heard of in her family. Why not go bigger?

Growing up in a Hispanic household, it was ingrained in you that an education was needed just to survive. Which is why most of her cousins from both sides of her family were seen going to college.

However, her parents were the only ones from both sides who’s children didn’t pursue for that height, yet. With her older older siblings not going down the path of success as their cousins, Y/N’s parents had very high expectations for her, as she was their last child.

With her mother praising her intelligence, her aunts and uncles expected her to use it wisely. She was now in the center stage of the entire family, watching her closely.

Which is why a university in London sounded like a great idea to give your parents something to show off to their siblings and nephews.

Still, it seemed like the bare minimum in todays world, you know with the upbringing of young heroes and all.

Rumors of Spider-Man being the same age as her plus an apprentice for Stephen Strange, and a sidekick for Hawkeye made her family’s belief in her much more challenging to climb.

But how would she be able to live to that expectation, especially coming from a small city in the corner of California, where people being successful was unheard of, less becoming a superhero.

“Ya estas lista?’ her father spoke, breaking her out of her narration.

*are you ready?

She blinked, “Huh?”

“Uy pues, si ya estas lista? Estas sorda o que?” his tone was harsh, but it always was.

*if you are ready? Are you deaf or what?

Annoyance, was probably the only emotion he ever showed. Y/N doesn’t remember a time where he never scowled or insulted her. Maybe he was born with no feelings besides anger.

“Oh, si. Ya estoy lista,” she says quickly.

*Oh yeah. I'm ready

He grunts and begins walking to the truck. Quickly, she grabs her belongings and loads them into the backseat. As they drive away, she gives one final look at her childhood home before it disappears from view.

——

As Y/N arrived at the airport, she was greeted by her two older siblings along with her nephews. The oldest, approaches her with a smile, mixed with joy and sadness. She wishes her luck and tells her how much she will miss her. Of course, Y/N can’t just leave without teasing her about how the “real” reason she is leaving is to escape her kids. This earns her a small push before her brother approaches her.

He tells her to not come back with a british accent while nudging her playfully.

“Man stop. I’m not, don’t want you getting a brain tumor” she replied, shoving him back lightly.

After saying her goodbyes to her family, Y/N made her way to her plane. She felt a mix of emotions - excitement, nervousness, and a tinge of sadness. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes once she sat on her seat. She feels the plane start to move, slowly at first and then picking up speed as it made its way down the runway.

——

“Ladies and gentlemen, Cosmos Air welcomes you to London. The local time is 8 of the morning. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate." a feminine British voice came through the airplane speakers.

If the turbulence hadn't jolted Y/N awake, the announcement certainly did. She stood up and stretched her arms, feeling the stiffness in her muscles from the long flight. She gathered her belongings and made her way down the aisle, following the stream of passengers towards the main area of the airport.

As she stepped out of the airport, she stood still, taking in the surroundings of the country. Y/N already had a good idea of how London would look but it was still different seeing it face to face. The architecture, the people, the sounds, and the smells were all so different from what she was used to back home.

"Alright, let’s see where my apartment is at," she said quietly. She pulled out her phone to look for the address and without any delay, she called a cab and headed off to her place.

——

Pushing through the throngs of vendors and people milling about the street, Y/N eventually arrived at a large brick building that looked like it had seen better days. It was a tall, multi-story structure holding several floors. In the front side of the building had two-pane windows, each with the curtain of whatever resident lived there.

Looking at the whole picture, it didn’t look the best but then again she was only a recent highschool graduate. So affording a modern suite in a better part of London wasn’t very possible for her.

She walked up the front steps of the building, standing before a long intercom that was plastered beside the doors. Y/N looked for the button to call the owner. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before she buzzed herself in and waited for a response.

The sound of crackling filled her ears, and a voice asked for her name and apartment number. Y/N responded, her heart was racing, she was rather excited but highly nervous still. With a click of the door, she tugged on the handle and was let in.

An old man who sat behind a wooden wall where one could still talk to him through a small opening peered at Y/N over his glasses, his eyes sharp and inquisitive. "Was it you who called from the states?" he inquired.

Y/N nodded, "Uhm, yeah, can I start heading in? Or how does that go?” she was already nervous so she couldn’t help how her voice trembled.

He gave a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, the room is ready. You can move in already," he said, gesturing towards the door. "I take it you never moved out on your own?" he asked, his tone gentle and understanding.

"Nope, I traveled by myself too," she added, hoping to redeem herself in his eyes.

The man smiled kindly at her, his demeanor reassuring. "I see, well if you need anything just let me know," he said, before handing her a key and giving her detailed directions to her new apartment.

--

As Y/N waited for the elevator to get to the fifth floor, she couldn't help but notice the dingy and worn-out state of the surroundings. The elevator was surrounded by mirrors, which had seen better days, with tags and scratches marring the reflective surface.

"Not so different from California then," she muttered to herself, trying to make light of the situation.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator arrived with a beeping sound, and the doors slid open with a creak. Y/N stepped out of the elevator and into a narrow hallway with green carpet and beige walls. The hallway was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting a pallid glow on everything around her. As she looked down the hallway, she noticed that each apartment door was painted a dark teal color, with a golden number stenciled onto it.

She made her way down the hallway, examining each door until she finally arrived at her own. Excitement coursed through her veins as she fumbled with the key, trying to get it into the doorknob. Once she stuck it in and turned, it didn’t budge. The door remained stubbornly shut.

She tried many times again and again, maybe it was how she was holding it? No. Her grip? No. The thought of having to go back to the old man on the first floor filled her with dread. She was the one out of the her three siblings who didn’t like dealing with conflict or confrontations. Hell, one time she couldn’t even tell a waitress that she got the wrong order because she didn’t want to anger her.

Aside from her social anxiety, she didn’t want to humiliate herself just because she can’t open a damn door.

Her last thought was to just slump down to the floor and hope that the door magically opened on its own. Just as she was about give up, she heard the door behind her open, causing her to jump slightly in surprise.

“Ah, are you having trouble with the door?” A man's voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned to face him, grateful for the distraction.

Y/N's eyes fell on the man standing in front of her, who appeared to be in his late 30s. He had tanned skin that looked like it had seen the sun more than a few times, and his dark wavy hair was slightly disheveled.

He was dressed in a grey jacket that looked expensive, and a satchel was slung over his shoulder. She couldn't help but feel a little envious of how put-together he looked compared to her own disheveled appearance.

Her cheeks flushed with a tinge of embarrassment, “I wasn’t being too loud was I?”

“...What if I said you were, just slightly?” He winced, almost pinching his thumb and pointer finger together to emphasize the amount.

He appeared timid, his shoulders slouched, but you could tell he was tense. He did, however, have a soft, kind expression on his face and a friendly smile.

“May I?” He motioned to the key, trying to bury the topic of who was loud.

Y/N was immediately removed from her thoughts, "Oh! Yeah! Uhm yes please..".

She stepped aside, allowing the man to approach the door. He took the key from her and inserted it into the doorknob, giving it a few twists and turns. She watched as he worked his magic, observing the way his hands behaved.. Suddenly, there was a satisfying click, and the door swung open with a few jiggles.

"Thank you so much, I would have had to sleep on the hallway floor haha…" She chuckled and nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

"Oh, no need to worry, love! When I first moved into this flat, both my dear mum and I had our fair share of troubles. I still haven’t a scooby why they haven’t tried fixing it," he furrowed his brows as he stared at the doorknob.

She paused and cocked her head to the side, wondering if she heard correctly. Was the word ‘scooby’ a slang word in Britain? Realizing now, she might be hearing more with her time being in London.

When he saw her confused expression, he immediately explained himself. “Oh! Your accent tells me you're not from around here, specifically England, right?"

“Yeah, aside from the accent, it was obvious huh?” she scratched the back of her head, feeling somewhat vulnerable at being outed.

He nodded but still kept a smile, “It was, I won’t lie. Well if it was the word ‘scooby’ that made you miffed, then it is just a word many here use for ‘clue’, not sure why though,"

She nodded for a long period until she spoke up again, “What does ‘miffed’ mean?”

He blinked before giving a small chuckle, “It means confused,”

Y/N made an ‘oh’ sound and nodded to the new found knowledge of british slang. He then asked if there was any american slang words he should know about. She took a minute to think of any, trying to filter through her vocabulary.

“Well, I know ‘heavy’ is a word to say if something is emotionally serious” She continued to think but she couldn’t think of anything else, “Yeah no, I can’t think of anything else,”

This time it was his turn being confused, he stood still trying to analyze the last phrase, “So yes you can think of something, or…”

She furrowed her brows at him but then it clicked, “Oh right! Well the phrase ‘yeah no’ just means ‘no’ and vice versa.”

“Oh, so that’s what it means. I don’t understand why you just wouldn’t say a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’,” he placed held his chin.

She shrugged, “I mean same with you Brit’s, why not just say ‘clue’ instead of saying the name of a dog who solves mysteries,”

“You have a point, guess we both learned something new,” he said before his eyes widened, “Oh right! Uhm my name is Steven. Steven Grant,”

He stuck his hand out at her, which she returned the gesture. His hand felt calloused, which was odd since he didn’t seem like the type to do hard labor, “I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N” she smiled.

“Well, I shall be seeing you more around here Y/N. I am glad to be the first to welcome– oh my god!” He notices the time on his watch and suddenly jolts up. Y/N jumps at the reaction, thinking maybe she had offended him in a way.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I have to get going to work, it was nice meeting you!" He yells before rushing towards the the elevator, pressing the button, and entering. As the doors close, Y/N gives him a wave which he does in return.

She smiles, grabbing all of her belongings that she left on the floor and brings them inside the apartment. She still thought of the encounter with Mr.Grant, how he was probably one of the kindest people she has met in her lifetime. Part of her hoped that she would see him again, hoping he would be the rock she needed as she adjusts to London.

The moment she walks in, she is immediately in the living room. The wooden floors creak beneath her as she puts her things down and shuts the door. Taking in the size, it wasn’t the biggest but it also wasn’t the smallest. Straight ahead is a large window that overlooks the city, allowing sunlight to flood the entire apartment.

Turning to her left was a kitchen. The design was odd, the kitchen was almost a room of its own, except the front wall was non existent except for a wide bottom-half of a beam. Infront of it was a wooden table and two wooden chairs. Aside from looking weird, she didn’t complain since it had everything from a fridge to a stove and sink.

Across from the kitchen area was a white wooden door. Turning the doorknob, she was met with a very simple bathroom with big white tiles on the floor. A white ceramic sink is located on the left wall, and the pipes are visible at the bottom. A dusty square mirror can be found near the top. The toilet is across from the sink, and the shower is next to it at the far end of the room. It has a tub that is attached to the floor and a silver showerhead on the left which seems it has rusted. The shower curtain is white but has a yellow stain.

She steps out, making a mental note to buy a new one. She walks towards the corner of the apartment, trying to find a bedroom door but there is none. "Nowhere to sleep?" She asks herself, until she remembers she is renting a studio room.

Meaning she would have to plan the placement of her bed in the living room at a later time. At the very least, they provided her with a couch, so she won't have to sleep on the floor for night or until she gets a mattress.

Once she explored all the hidden kinks of the flat, she began unpacking and putting things together. She covered the couch with a bed sheet, since she didn’t know who or what might have sat on it. Adding her pillow and blanket, she moved on to putting up the calendar.

She takes a step back and marks when her classes begin, “I have a month then?”.

A month to gather money for her apartment and wellbeing. She’ll probably leave job hunting for tomorrow. Y/N returns to the couch and lies down, her mind setting up schedules and such to have a successful four year life in London.

However it was cut off when she heard and felt her stomach growl, giving her an unpleasant feeling. "Right, I haven’t eaten since the plane,", she takes out her phone from the pocket of her jacket.

With only a small amount of money, she looked through Google for cheap place to grab something to eat. Since she didn’t want to go to a fancy restaurant where she had to dress better than what she was wearing, she chose to go to a McDonald’s nearby. Thank god for western influence in Europe.

She stood up from the couch and grabbed her tote bag from the floor. Once she put on her shoes, she beelined to the elevator.

The elevator was going to be something to get used to when trying to leave. Usually she would only step out of the front gate of her house and go into whoever’s car that was going to give her a ride.

As she waited for the elevator to make it to the first floor, the noticed the lights flickering. It was only for a moment before they stopped and continued to buzz.

With the way the doors fail to unlock and the price for a studio apartment, its no wonder they couldn’t afford to fix the electricity.

The elevator chimed and she expected to be at the end of ride until she noticed the small analog screen showing she was only down a level. The doors opened and an elder woman walked in.

Y/N gulped, it was one small fear she had when riding elevators. Sharing them with a complete stranger and having to be in complete silence. With the way the elevator slowly descended to each floor, she can already sense herself trying to force the woman into a conversation.

“So, how is England?” she slowly turned her head to the woman, holding a smile.

“Uh, I believe it is fine, as long as the queen is,” the woman said quickly, looking away from Y/N.

Y/N nodded but continued her nervous rambling, “Right, I forgot about the queen. Question from a foreigner though, what happens if she dies which I hope she doesn’t anytime soon. Do we not work for a week? Or is that something only for british students? Actually now that I think about it, do you guys have the faces of all the kings and queens in each classroom? Do you guys celebrate a king or queen day? Or are they separate?”

The old woman only widened her eyes but stayed quiet. In Y/N’s peripheral vision, she could see the woman clutch her purse closely. Understanding her discomfort, Y/N immediately stopped talking, straightening her position and looking anywhere but the woman from the awkwardness she had just created.

As if the the old woman’s prayers have been answered, the elevator chimed and opened to a different floor. Quickly, she rushed out without looking back.

Once Y/N was left alone and the doors closed, she cursed herself, “You are so fucking stupid. You could have just stayed quiet”

-

Since the fast food chain was only a 30 minute walk, she decided to use that time to look around. As she did, she quickly noticed the differences from her hometown and London.

Aside from the fact that it was colder, even though it was July, the buildings appeared older. It was the type of area that she always dreamed of living in since she was in middle school. Maybe that was the reason why she chose to attend a university there. It was still nice though, it was a nice change of pace instead of hearing sirens and such every once in a while. For now.

The walk was rather relaxing, especially after putting in her earbuds.

Once she arrived, she ordered her food and quickly ate beside a window. The sun was still up and it didn’t seem like it would be setting soon. Checking her phone for the time she saw that she had enough time to continue to explore the city. Mainly to see where the nearest groceries were and what other stores the area offered.

——

The elevator doors opened with its signature chime revealing Y/N holding a bag full of groceries. After spending all day, her feet were swore from her adventure and all she wanted to do was lay down.

Once she reached her door, she grabbed her key and positioned it to the keyhole. However, she paused, trying to remember how Mr.Grant pulled it off again. She inserted it and jiggled it, hoping for that same clicking sound.

“That’s not it,” she muttered under her breath.

Once more, but this time she turned the key from left to right, then left again. Maybe it was a pattern she had to follow.

She groaned, “Not it.”

Without realizing, a few of the tenants on the floor passed by her, some smirking at her failure. “Of course, I mean how can anyone not know how to open a door? They must be utterly ridiculous,” she mocked a british accent.

After a few more tries, she gave up and leaned her head against the door, letting her arms fall limp. It as a pathetic sight. She rethought of what her parents told her, and they were right. She won’t be able to anything on her own.

She heard the elevator chime and its doors open once again. Expecting another tenant to come and ridicule her, she sighed.

She decided to continue mocking the british accent because why not? If they can make fun of her, then so can she. “Continue to walk away and laugh as I try to unlock my damn door instead of helping me because that makes you so much better than me, you god damn buffoon,” she mocked once again.

“Is that really what we sound like to you?” Steven’s voice spoke up.

Y/N raised her head immediately, earning her a short jetlag. She looked over to Steven who wore a smile that practically said, ‘Here comes your knight in shining armor’.

“What if I said yes?” she flipped herself, leaning her back towards the door.

He only gave a small laugh, “Then I would say you need more practice with your accent if you really are trying to fit in. Need help with the door?”. He gestured to the door.

“Yup,” she nodded and handed him the key. She moved away from the door but stayed close to see how he did it.

With a simple click, the door opened and he held his arms out, gesturing to his accomplishment, “Ta-da!”.

Y/N could only stand there, surprised, “Okay you have to be fucking with me, is there a pattern or something that everyone was told except me?”

"Not exactly," he said quietly, "all you have to do is nudge the key a few times to the left after you turn it and– pop!”

"So there is a pattern," she nods. "Anything else I should know about?"

He looks up, trying to remember any valuable information, "Not really, just remember to lock your door, since there have been break-ins, but that is only in the second floor,"

She nods and walks inside with her bag of groceries, but then stops, "Thanks by the way, for helping me with the door, and sorry about the horrible accent," she rubs the back of her neck.

"Oh no worries, love; if you need anything else, I'm just a knock away." He smiles and waves as he walks to his own apartment, which is right across from hers.

Y/N closes the door to her apartment and locks it, listening to what Mr.Grant said. She makes her way to one of her suitcases and pulls out her sleepwear for the night. Once she changes clothing, she walks to the window, the creaking of the wood floor following behind her. She looks at the overview of the city, lights begin to illuminate as the sky darkens.

She brings out her phone, putting the camera at an angle to get the best view of the buildings. Once snaps a shot, she uploads it to her social media with the location tagged to it.

Chapter Text

The sun poured through the window of the studio, easily waking Y/N up from her sleep. Her sleep schedule was terrible, usually she would find herself waking up in the after noon, but not today. Still, she struggled to get up until the alarm she set last night began to go off a second after.

As she sat up from the couch, she could feel the bones in her body pop. A groan escaped from within her throat while she continued to sit on the brown sofa. It seemed like it wasn’t going to be the best place to sleep, making it her goal to get a mattress as fast as possible.

Squinting at the window, her eyes were blinded from the bright light of the morning. God, did she miss her old room, but there was no point to sit and wallow. Standing up, she made a mental note to buy curtains as well. Y/N proceeded to begin her day, cooking a small breakfast meal with the groceries she bought from yesterday and then heading to the shower to wash off the grogginess still left in her.
Now she found herself rummaging though her luggage, throwing articles of clothing out to make things easier for her, “I swear I packed it,”

With her hair still dripping from the shower, the collar of her t-shirt began to get damp. She rushed herself, trying to save herself from ending up with a wet shirt. After rummaging, she finally found what she needed and held it up, letting out an ‘Ah-hah!’.

It was a cotton, long sleeve, burgundy button down, one that she found in a thrift store. Actually, most of the outfit that she’ll be wearing were thrifted. She put on the long sleeve, tucking it into her clack slacks after buttoning. Since she didn’t have any professional looking shoes, she went with black boots. Her hair was a disaster trying to be held together; she had no idea how to style it without looking like a suburban middle-aged woman, so she just brushed it out and added volume. She walked up to the mirror, turned, twisted, and even performed a small dance to see if she would be comfortable. "That's all they're going to get from me," she slouched.

She grabbed her bag from the wooden dining table, plus the 6 copies of her resume that she printed out yesterday. Locking her door, her feet automatically walked her to the elevator and out to society.

——

Usually she would have just applied online, but she really needed a place to work. Additionally, she heard you get a higher chance of getting hired if you asked upfront. Making the mall a goldmine, she walked to one perfume shop that had a ‘Hiring’ sign at the front.

Again, she believed it would be easy until she located the manager and asked about the position, only to be met with the manager’s scowl and a rude, “The spot has been filled,”. Lord, did she feel so much rage from that encounter. With a quick mutter of “Fuck you too”, she walked off, she didn’t need to worry about it, she was barely starting, and she still had a long way to go.

After hours, Y/N had no luck with any of the five other places she went to. She even went to some other places of business on her way out but nothing. The sun was starting its first phase of setting and she was just sitting on a bench with her elbows on her knees and hands holding the bottom of her chin. She wasn’t alone though, next to her was a man in gold clothing while he was painted gold himself.
He had a gold suit that reflected in the sun, almost blinding Y/N. He was motionless, only holding a simple pose. It seemed almost humiliating to do, but Y/N found herself able to pour out all of her frustrations.

“I dressed the part, printed my damn resume, and you’re telling me none of them wanted me?” she vented, her voice laced with exasperation. “Like they ask for experience when they are the reasons some of us can’t get any. They think they are so superior, like yeah right. Working at a convenience store and sex shop makes you so elite,” she muttered between bites of her hotdog, staring at the people passing by with envy.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N's contemplation was interrupted when two girls approached her, requesting a favor. She sat up and rose from the bench, "Oh, sure," she responded, taking the phone from them. Motioning the girls to stand by the golden man, she instructed them to say something cheesy like "golden." They complied, and once she returned their phone, they thanked her and began to walk away. But Y/N couldn't let them leave without reminding them of one thing.

“Oye! You guys forgot to tip him!” she called out, pointing at the golden hat on the floor. "No se hagan culeras," she added.

*Don’t be assholes

Wide-eyed, the girls hurriedly contributed to the hat before scurrying away. Y/N scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Maybe you should hire me as your manager or something," she mused, before continuing to take a bit of her hotdog.

Grabbing her hotdog again, she continued to eat before a flyer landed on her foot. Her chewing stopped as she looked down and picked it up. It had Egyptian hieroglyphics in the background, and a sarcophagus in the front, with the words 'NOW HIRING' in large white letters. Her eyes widened, pushing the flyer to the gold man’s view, she exclaimed, “It has to be a sign right? Does it have an address?”. She looked closer and it did with the qualifications. It seemed like they were hiring right away. Checking the time on her phone, she had enough time to go check it out before retreating.

She stands up to leave, opening her wallet and taking out two pounds, placing them into the tip hat. “Once I am working, I will come back with more,” she smiled before she dashed away to the Ancient Egypt Museum.
----
As she approaches the museum, banners flutter in the breeze, displaying some of the exhibits. Aside from that, the museum is a pale white being held with white columns, almost a resemblance to the hall where the statue of Abraham Lincoln is located. Large stairs lead to the front doors of the museum which scare Y/N due how her energy has depleted.

As she fights the journey up the stairs and takes a quick break to catch her breath, she walks in to see numerous exhibits. Glass-encased statues and tombs, Egyptian art, and a small gift shop. She can't remember the last time she visited a museum, but she remembers being interested in the topic thanks to her grandfather who would go on and on about history and archaeology, Ancient Egypt being one.
Since the flyer offered a job position in the gift shop, she heads straight there. However once she gets close, she sees a familiar neighbor at the register.

Steven waved goodbye to a boy he had been speaking to, "Take care of Tawaret, alright?" As he resumed organizing the items that had been knocked over, the corner of his eye caught sight of Y/N standing in an awkward stance. Intrigued, he paused his task and greeted her with a warm smile. "Well, if it isn't my dear neighbor, Y/N."

Y/N approached him, her voice laced with a playful tone. "And if it isn't my locksmith," she replied, her steps bringing her closer.

Continuing his task, Steven maintained a light-hearted demeanor. "Indeed, that's what I am. So, what brings you here today? Are you a fan of Egyptian history?"

"I mean it’s cool, but i’m actually here because of a flyer,” Y/N shrugged casually, fishing out a flyer from her pocket and handing it to Steven. He brings it close but then moves it back when he tries to read it, something that Y/N has seen her parents do. "You want to work here?" he asked, squinting at the words on the flyer.

"Yeah, if it’s cool, so far no one has tried to give me an interview or even a handshake," she says, leaning against the front desk of the gift shop, looking down as she is reminded of the rude managers from earlier.

Steven looks at her with pity but gives her an encouraging smile, "Of course, it's alright. Tell you what, why don't I put in a good word for you here?"

Puzzled by the unexpected offer, Y/N tilted her head slightly. "Why?" she inquired.

"Well, it might just speed up the process for you and help you land a job here," Steven explained, his eyes reflecting a genuine desire to assist.

"I mean, I get that, but why are you going out of your way to help me? We've only known each other for less than an hour," she stated, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and skepticism.
It was true, if she was in his position, she wouldn’t bother to help her neighbor. Let alone interact with them.

"True, I suppose," he mused, "but it doesn't feel right to withhold a helping hand. At least, that's my take on it."

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on him as he offered a smile. Having the skill of a people watcher, she was able to tell if someone exuded goodness and those who were terrible. And in this case, he had gold splashed on him with how he radiated warmth and kindness.

"Not to mention," he added with a shrug, "it would be nice to have someone else working the shop with me."

She nodded in understanding, grasping his situation. "Well, if you're open to it, then sure—"

"Stephen! "The sharp voice sliced through their conversation, causing both Y/N and Steven to jump. Y/N turned to her left, finding the source– a woman with bleached blonde hair and eyes that were capable of making children cry. Once the woman approached them, she crossed her arms and locked her gaze onto Steven, completely disregarding Y/N's presence. "Are you selling to our customers or babbling on about nonsense?" she spat.

Steven’s demeanor seemed to delfate with the way his cheerful character became gloomy. His shoulders slumped, the twinkle in his eyes extinguished, leaving behind an almost stoic expression. "It's Steven, once again, Steven," he emphasized, tapping his name tag for emphasis.

"I don't bloody care. If you're not pulling your weight, your role in the gift shop will be taken away," she declared, waving her finger at him as if scolding a child. While the woman continued to bicker Steven, Y/N took the chance to sneak a glance at her name tag, revealing the name 'Donna.' It seemed to match her demeanor perfectly.

"Understood," Steven replied, but then turned to face Y/N. "However, I was actually talking to my..." He paused, his lips thinning as he formulated an answer. "...cousin. She's interested in applying for the position of gift shop associate. I highly recommend her," he stated, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N's shoulder.

Y/N tensed at the sudden spotlight being cast upon her in their conversation. Donna's scowl mirrored the other managers that Y/N has encountered. It must be a cultural norm in England.
Glancing up at Steven, he subtly directed his gaze towards Donna. "Oh, um, nice to meet you. My name is Y/N," she greeted with a smile, extending her hand. Surprisingly, Donna accepted the handshake, though her expression remained one of confusion.

"Your cousin, huh? How can I be certain you won't disappoint me?" Her gaze shifted to Steven, one eyebrow raised in doubt.

"I assure you, she would never deceive you. She's a dedicated worker, always eager to learn and grow," he said as he looked at Y/N, almost as if he was referring to yesterday when they were both learning new phrases. Seeing that Steven was the only one trying to make her shine, she got rid of her daydreaming and spoke up, “Yes! I thrive on being busy and I almost never complain. Plus I learn real quick if you teach me,”

Donna's suspicious gaze intensified as she questioned Y/N's American accent. A sense of urgency washed over Steven as he realized the glaring inconsistency. He looked over to Y/N who seemed to be piecing together a story in her mind.

"Well, I actually grew up in the United States," she confidently stated, ensuring that her words sounded truthful. She just hopes that Donna won’t ask about the family tree. She swiftly changed the subject to the interview, “Over there, I learned to multitask and the importance of respecting my superiors." This however, was a lie; first of all she didn’t believe in the phrase “respect your elders” and secondly she never worked a day in her life. But it seemed like lying is what will help her if she really wanted work there.

Donna's gaze lingered on her, as if scrutinizing every word she said. After a pause, Donna relented, her tone laced with resignation. "Alright, fine. Consider yourself hired. It's only because this one," she gestured towards Steven, "has been giving me a headache." Steven arched an eyebrow at the insult but accepted it to stay away from arguing, and potentially losing his name tag.

"You begin today and then–" Donna started to explain before she was abruptly interrupted.

"Wait, today?" Y/N's voice held a hint of surprise.

Donna responded with an aggressive and rude tone, making it clear that she had little patience, "Yes, today. Is that going to be a problem?".

Shaking her head in response, Y/N chose not to engage in further confrontation. Donna then turned her attention to Steven, delivering a cutting remark, “You will train her today, I expect her to be far better than you". With that, Donna walked away.

"My first job and my boss is a complete bi–" Y/N began to vent her frustrations, but before she could finish her sentence, Steven interjected, "I know she's an absolute tosser, but trust me, you'll get used to it," he said with a reassuring smile.

Y/N nodded in agreement. There was a pause before Steven realized his new task and exclaimed, "Oh right! As it turns out, I will be your mentor, for which I am grateful". He made a small bow with his palm on his chest which Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at his action.

For the rest of the day, Steven spent it by teaching Y/N the basics of working in a gift shop. He started by familiarizing her where each product belonged and taking inventory. As they moved on to the cashier duties, Y/N couldn't help but feel a nervous flutter in her stomach. However, Steven's presence by her side made her nerves flatten thanks to Steven being by her side, giving her a thumbs up. Even after making countless mistakes, Steven never raising his voice or belittling her efforts.

"I believe that's all the time we have for today. Tomorrow, I'll show you the stock room and all that buzz," Steven announced, beginning to tidy up as the museum visitors started to depart. With a nod of understanding, Y/N followed closely behind him as they headed toward the locker room.

Inside the locker and break room, a few people gathered their belongings , ready to leave. The lockers, arranged in a row toward the back, were rather small. On the opposite side, there were two tables accompanied by a handful of chairs, positioned next to cupboards and counters. A microwave sat on the counter, while a whiteboard displayed the day's assigned duties on a white fridge.

"Well, here's the break and locker room. It's not the most extravagant, but it's better than nothing," Steven remarked, opening his locker to retrieve the familiar satchel Y/N had noticed earlier. He continued, "I'll give you the door code tomorrow."

Once Steven closed and locked his locker compartment, a sudden realization seemed to dawn upon him. His head shot up, causing Y/N to instinctively take a step back. "Have you had your lunch? Now that we're on the topic," he asked, concern evident in his voice. Though Y/N hesitated, not wanting to burden him with guilt, her silence confirmed it for Steven.

“Well," she began, her voice trailing off, "I ate earlier today."

"Oh, bollocks! I was too caught up in training you that I completely forgot about the most basic needs," Steven exclaimed, running his hand from the top of his face down in frustration. Looking around, he pondered for a moment, searching for a solution. "Well, let's get you some dinner then. There's a place down the street that might still be open," he suggested, eager to go.

Her eyes widened, and she waved her hands dismissively. "No, no! It's alright. I bought groceries yesterday, so I'm pretty sure I have something to eat," Y/N assured him.

Steven raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced. "No offense, but I'm sure the moment you get home, you're going to knock out in bed," he remarked knowingly.

He was right. Y/N was exhausted, and all she craved was a good night's sleep. She pursed her lips, contemplating whether to accept his offer. She didn't want him to spend more money on her, considering all he had already done.

Letting out a sigh, she relented, "Alright, but let's go for something cheap.”

They both exited the museum and strolled along the street, heading towards a nearby bus stop. Steven came to a halt, but Y/N continued walking, oblivious to the fact that he wasn't following. With a quick call to get her attention, she turned around and hurriedly made her way back.

"We're taking the bus?" Y/N inquired, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Of course! If we go on foot, it'll probably be closed by the time we get there, and it would be past your bedtime," Steven replied with a playful smile.

She rolled her eyes, retorting, "I'm 18, you know that, right? Besides, I don't think I have any change for the bus fare." Y/N took out her wallet and opened it to confirm her lack of change. As expected, she was right. However, Steven waved off her concern, insisting that he would cover the cost. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but it was difficult to do so earlier, so she nods. Plus she might give her legs a break from running around in the gift shop.

——

The small restaurant had a handful of patrons, with white tiled floors and pale yellow walls. The rhythmic sounds of the grill and utensils filled the space behind the front desk where the kitchen was located.

Y/N glanced up at the menu, feeling overwhelmed by the variety of noodles and drinks on display. Unsure of what to choose, she shifted back and forth, thinking of her options. Sensing her dilemma, Steven stepped in and recommended a few dishes, highlighting his personal favorite with tofu.

"If you're not a vegan like me, the Classic Thai is also popular," he shrugged, noting its meat content.

Nodding in acknowledgment, they approached the cashier to place their order. Steven took charge and ordered for both of them, and once it came to pay, he handed the cashier a bill. As the cashier reached out to receive it, Y/N's eyes caught sight of a tattoo on their arm.

"Hey, I like your tattoo," Y/N commented, flashing a smile.

The tattoo depicted a scale, intricately detailed with crocodile heads on either side. The cashier returned the smile and glanced down at their tattoo. "Thank you. It's a sign of a miracle," she shared.
Y/N nodded slowly, her brows furrowing slightly, “I see, it’s nice,”

Feeling a shiver crawl up her spine, Y/N glanced back up to find the cashier's gaze fixed on her, still wearing that eerie smile. Her eyes widened, feeling the hair behind her neck stand. The cashier's unwavering stare seemed to penetrate her very being. Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, until the jarring ring of a bell shattered the tension. The cashier finally averted her gaze, retrieving a bag with their drinks. Breathing a sigh of relief, Y/N couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of unease as they made their way towards the exit.

As they approached the door, a nagging thought tugged at Y/N's mind. Her instincts screamed at her to keep moving forward, but an unsettling curiosity lingered. She refrained from glancing back at the cashier, trying to leave fast. However, she thought she heard a "goodbye" reached her ears with the mention of her and Steven’s last names.

——
On the bus once again, Steven and Y/N settled into their seats, with Steven cradling the bag of food on his lap and Y/N holding the drinks. With about ten minutes left before their next stop, Steven took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

"So, what's your take on London so far?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N, still mulling over the unsettling encounter at the restaurant, was caught off guard. She paused for a moment before responding, "Well, I've only been here for two days, but most of the people I've met were assholes, except for you, of course."

Steven chuckled, but quickly reprimanded her for her choice of words. "Oi, mind your language. But you're not wrong, not everyone here has been great."

Momentarily forgetting about their previous topic, Y/N smiled in confusion. "I didn't think you were so sensitive about cursing," she remarked, before correcting herself, “Nevermind, you do look like it,”
A hint of amusement danced in Steven's eyes as he raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to offend me? I just think someone your age shouldn’t have a vulgar vocabulary."

Y/N let out a scoff. "Well, you'd probably faint if you met the people I went to high school with."

Intrigued, Steven tilted his head and asked if she was currently attending college. Y/N nodded, and his face lit up with genuine excitement. "Congratulations! That's fantastic!" he exclaimed, offering his warm congratulations. Y/N returned the smile and expressed her gratitude for his enthusiastic response. Despite the ups and downs of the day, she couldn't help but appreciate Steven's positive attitude.
She mentions how she was accepted to a university near London, which is why she moved there in the first place which brings out more questions.

"Well, I'm not too familiar with the US, but aren't there universities closer to where you live? Why fly thousands of miles?" Steven inquired, genuinely curious.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, only providing a superficial answer. "Well, there are some nearby, but I just wanted to...," she trailed off, not delving deeper into her reasons, "Make my aunts and cousins jealous."

Steven nodded, sensing that there was more to her decision than mere family rivalry. However, he didn't pry further. Sensing the lull in the conversation, Y/N decided to change the subject.
"I think it's my turn to ask about you," she said, turning her attention to Steven.

"Alrighty, what do you want to know?" he replied, gesturing for her to unleash a barrage of questions.

She started by asking about his age, and he chuckled in response. "36," he revealed.

Y/N clicked her tongue playfully. "Dang, so I was close."

Amused, Steven raised an eyebrow and teased, "You were guessing my age? Taking offense, are we?"

"I said 40, but I guess you're younger than you look," Y/N shrugged nonchalantly. Steven dramatically placed his hand over his heart, pretending to be deeply wounded. "Do I really look that old?" he asked, feigning shock. Y/N locked her gaze on him, tilting her head from different angles to see if she may have overestimated his age.

"Well, not anymore, but honestly, it might be true," she replied, sitting up straight. "Your aging is sped up because of Devah."

"You mean Donna?" Steven corrected her.

“Whatever," Y/N rolled her eyes dismissively. Steven couldn't help but laugh at her attitude towards their boss. Which he can’t blame her. Maybe he should have warned her about her before he tried helping her land the job.

——
"So, anything creepy ever happened here before I continue unpacking my apartment?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as they waited for the elevator doors to open on their floor.

Steven looked at her, slightly taken aback by the question. "Are you talking about paranormal weird or people weird?" he clarified.

“Both”

The building, for the most part, was relatively quiet. Occasionally, heated arguments between couples could be heard echoing through the halls. There was that one incident when the electricity went out for the entire complex, forcing everyone to open their windows until it was fixed. But overall, not much out of the ordinary. "Not really, just the occasional flickering lights, but this building is quite old. I wouldn't worry too much. Just be cautious around people in general," Steven reassured her.

Y/N nodded, but her mind wandered as she observed the mirrors inside the elevator, noticing how they were positioned to face each other. She remembered seeing how mirrors facing each other could be used to create a portal. The flickering lights suddenly took on a new meaning in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just faulty wiring.
Once they reached their floor, Steven unlocked his door but decided to wait and see if Y/N would be able to open hers this time. "Just nudge the key to the left, right?" she asked, seeking confirmation. He responded with a simple "mm-hmm." That's exactly what she did.

Left. One nudge. Two nudges. Three nudges. Four. And click!

The door swung open, and Y/N stood there in shock. "I did it," she muttered to herself, then turned to Steven, unable to contain her excitement. "I fucking did it!"

"You did it!" he exclaimed, sharing in her joy. They continued to celebrate, their voices echoing through the hallway, until a neighbor shouted at them to quiet down. "Will you two just shut it already?! People are trying to bloody sleep!" The sound of a slamming door silenced them.

"Pinche—" Y/N began, but immediately stopped when she heard Steven clearing his throat.

*Fucking–

"Sorry," she quickly apologized, raising her hand in acknowledgement. Steven gave a nod, accepting her apology, and bid her a simple "goodnight."

-

Y/N sat at the table and unpacked the takeout food. She examined it closely, revealing a dish of fried noodles topped with chicken. The aroma wafted up, enticing her senses. Unable to resist any longer, she eagerly took a bite, savoring the burst of flavors. Her eyes widened in delight, and she leaned back in her chair, fully appreciating the deliciousness of the meal. The thought of returning to the restaurant already crossed her mind.

Chapter Text

Y/N's first week at the museum's gift shop was busy and overwhelming. Since she was the new employee, she had to take on most of the tasks while other employees slacked off or were absent. Plus she wanted didn’t want to embarrass Steven, especially with the way he lifted her.

Her tasks included restocking shelves, organizing the mess left by customers, and wiping down the front desk, for some reason. After she’d finish, she would try to sit down to relieve her aching body but would be stopped once Donna came back with a new list of instructions. And of course, Y/N would be up on her feet before Donna could finish her sentence.

As the days went on and Y/N's energy drained, Steven grew concerned for her. It was her first job, and she was being worked relentlessly. He attempted to help with some tasks, but she insisted on doing everything herself, leaving him to watch as she hurried around the gift shop.

One day, Donna handed Y/N a sticker gun and told her to mark all the snow globes on clearance. Once she was done, she had to stack them on a designated shelf. Y/N immediately nodded and started applying the stickers, not minding that it was July and nowhere near December.

Seeing Y/N's relentless pace, Steven approached her and joked, “You don’t have to push yourself so hard, don’t want you to combust,”. However, Y/N was too focused to notice. Eventually, she finished marking all the snow globes, feeling relieved. But then she realized she still had to put them on the shelf, which made her groan in frustration.

Steven offered to help, saying it would be faster. This time, Y/N welcomed his assistance. As they both worked to put the snow globes on the shelf, Steven broke the silence, “Anything on your mind?”.

Y/N had a lot on her mind. She was stressed, tired, and on the verge of tears. Steven's worried expression reminded her of her siblings telling her to take a break after a study session, which only made her feel more homesick. She didn't want to break down and prove her parents right about her.

She was considered an adult now, and adults shouldn’t cry to people, especially to their own neighbors who they’ve only met for about a week.

But instead of sharing her true feelings, she simply replied, "I'm fine, thanks for the help, by the way." She grabbed the empty box and went to the register to assist a waiting customer.

After they left, Steven approached her again, “Alright, just take things at your own pace, you don’t have to prove Donna anything,”.

He took a box that he was tasked to take to the stock room and went on his way. Y/N was left with the flood of customers coming in, and Donna passing by to boss her around more.

After two hours, her body felt so tense that it might be considered sculpture in the museum. With her brain constantly firing actions and thoughts, her body felt like it was on autopilot. Luckily, it was finally time for Y/N and Steven's lunch break, granting them 30 minutes of rest, which was much needed, especially for Y/N.

——
Y/N eagerly waited for her granola bar to drop from the vending machine, watching as it descended into the slot. She grabbed a chair, leaned back, and heard her bones crack. Getting back up, she took a sip of water and a bite of her granola. She twisted her feet and neck to find some relief when Steven joined her at the table, holding his lunch.

"I did tell you to slow down," he said, sounding like he was giving her a lecture.

Y/N let out a tired sigh and replied, "I know, but I got things done fast though, didn’t I?”

Steven nodded and began eating his sandwich. Y/N finished her granola bar quickly but was still hungry and didn't have any change for another snack. She regretted not packing her own lunch.

Noticing her playing with the water bottle, Steven looked down and offered her half of his sandwich, “I’m sure that protein bar and water won’t fill you,”.

Y/N looked at his offer and shook her head, “I can’t that’s your lunch,”

“I will be fine, you however won’t and you still have a long way before the end of the day.” he insisted.

She hesitated but eventually accepted the sandwich, thanking him quietly before taking a bite. It was delicious, maybe it was her growling stomach talking or maybe Steven was an amazing sandwich maker, but she didn’t care.

Once she finished, she looked up to see Steven's surprised expression. He didn’t expect her to be so hungry, but he smiled nonetheless. Y/N wiped her mouth and felt a tinge of embarrassment.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to down all that in just seconds,” she said.

Steven waved it off, “It wasn’t that, it just looks like you haven’t eaten.”

Y/N looked away, knowing he was about to worry him, “Well I was kinda in a rush this morning, so I didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast,”

Steven's eyes widened in shock. She was working herself to death with her body running with no food. “How are you still standing?” he said rather loudly, “You have to put yourself first, a job won’t be as important as your wellbeing,”

Y/N shrank in her seat, feeling like she was being lectured by a parent. He went on about the importance of eating breakfast, even bringing up an Egyptian story. She learned in the past few days about his love with Egyptian facts and stories. It was probably why he didn’t try to resign.

"I'll give you my phone number in case you forget to eat or need someone to pack your lunch," he offered, pulling out his phone. He realized he should have given her his number earlier.

Comparing their phones, it was clear who was the younger one. Steven had a simple gray flip phone, while Y/N had a touchscreen phone adorned with stickers of her favorite shows and movies. After exchanging numbers, Y/N saved Steven's contact as "Neighbor Steven."

"It was nice negotiating with you," Y/N quipped before putting her phone away. Steven looked at her with a mix of confusion and amusement. With only ten minutes left of their break, Y/N excused herself to use the restroom.

After coming out of the stall, she walked to the sink, washed and dried her hands, and looked at herself in the mirror. Steven had been right—she looked like she had only slept for an hour. As she attempted to fix her hair, she noticed the lights above flickering and heard a buzzing sound. It reminded her of the elevator lights. Maybe there was an electrical issue in London. She shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on it.

She walked out of the restroom and headed to the gift shop where Steven was was already starting on his assignments. “You freshened up?” He asked, as he took out blue hippo plushies from a box. She nodded and only promised that she won’t overwork herself.

————
Nearly a month had passed, leaving only a few days until the end of July. During this time, Steven and Y/N have gotten closer to where everyone at the museum were convinced that they were actually cousins. Really it felt like they were siblings.

As a result, Y/N often acted like a younger sister to Steven.

Steven was peacefully asleep when his phone rang, causing him to jolt awake. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and checked the caller ID, unsurprisingly finding it was Y/N.

"Why are you calling so early?" he groggily asked, his voice tired. However, he was immediately met with Y/N's loud voice on the other end of the line, which instantly woke him up.

"It's about time you answered! Are you ready?" she exclaimed.

Confused, Steven furrowed his brow and asked, "Wait, what time is—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he heard Spanish cursing coming from the other end of the line. "Ay chingado, Steven, did you just wake up?" Y/N questioned.

Taking Stevens silence as a yes, she continued, “Dude, we’re going be late for work!”.

Wide-eyed, Steven checked the time and realized they had only ten minutes before the bus departed. Realizing he missed his alarm, he quickly got up, but his ankle was held back by the chain still attached to his ankle cuff. Sighing, he worked his way out of the cuff and got ready. He tended to his goldfish before heading out of his apartment to meet Y/N, who stood there with her arms crossed.

“About time you came out! Let's go!" she urged.

They stepped into the elevator, and Y/N leaned back against the wall as the doors closed. "Good thing I called you. Was your alarm clock broken or something?" she asked.

Steven shrugged, “I’m not sure. That usually doesn’t happen,”

“Yeah, guess I’ll have to record my voice as your new alarm,” she teased.

"Please, no," he chuckled in response.

When they reached the ground floor, they quickly exited the apartment building and made their way to the bus stop. They arrived just in time to catch the bus before the doors closed, but it was already packed, leaving them standing amidst a crowd of people. Standing on a crowded bus had become a common occurrence for them.

-

Y/N and Steven managed to make it to the museum entrance just in time, weaving through the crowd. Y/N glanced at Steven, asking if their dear boss will be a ‘female dog’ for todays shift. Despite trying to get used to Donna’s personality, she found it hard to like her. The more she had to deal with her, the more reasons she found to dislike her.
.
Inside the museum, they joined the bustling crowd. Seeing a little girl stuffing a candy wrapper into a pyramid model, Steven told Y/N to go on without him. She nodded and watched as Steven approached the girl.

Steven seemed to enjoy sharing ancient Egyptian facts with others, especially children. Y/N couldn’t help but think of how he would a great teacher if he wasn’t stuck playing gift shopist. He didn't seem like the type to play favorites or get angry at someone for not understanding something.

Y/N made her way to the locker room to store her bag and lunch. Her coworkers greeted her with a "good morning" or simply ignored her, which was fine by her. Returning to the gift shop, she logged into the register and tidied up any items that had been knocked over. Then she went to the rope barrier and unclasped it, allowing visitors to enter.

Although she still worked hard, Y/N stopped going the extra mile like she did during her first week. The main reason was because she would end up exhausted by the end of the day. Steven had even lectured her about taking care of her health, scaring her a bit with his intensity. She knew he meant well, but he could be terrifying at times.

Fortunately, Y/N had gotten used to the museum layout, making it easier for her to find and finish tasks in different places. Most of her shifts were with Steven, as Donna still believed they were cousins. Not out of empathy, but because Donna needed someone to blame if Y/N made a mistake. Which was nearly difficult to do since Y/N was very aware of her actions and surroundings to make any clumsy mistakes.

As Y/N restocked a shelf, she overheard Steven and Donna approaching. Donna was scolding Steven, as usual, about not being a tour guide.

"Don't know how many times I have to tell you this. You're not the bloody tour guide, Stevie," Donna chastised him while he put on his name tag.

"Steven, actually. I am Steven," he corrected her, tapping his name tag. It seemed like Donna never cared enough to remember his name correctly.

After Donna finished berating him, she assigned him a task and walked away. Y/N couldn't help but glare at Donna's retreating figure and muttered, "Guess she didn't make it to third base with her date last night." She expected a smile or a chuckle from Steven, but he looked tired and defeated, most likely from being unheard by the managers.

Y/N pouted and sighed, trying to lift his spirits. "Hey, don't listen to her. Honestly, I think you'd make a better tour guide than those show-offs," she gestured towards the other tour guides who were already busy with their duties. Her words seemed to brighten Steven's mood slightly. His eyes lit up, and he straightened his posture, offering her a grateful smile.

"I've told them many times before, but they just ignore it," he said, frustration in his voice.

“You just gotta keep trying,” she offers a smile which Steven returns. As if on cue, one of the tour guides walk up to them. Looking towards Steven.

"You just gotta keep trying," Y/N encouraged, returning his smile. Just then, one of the tour guides approached them, making a beeline for Steven. The woman was dressed in a black dress and had long curly hair. Y/N had seen her leading tours before, mostly for adults, and they had exchanged a few greetings.

There seemed to be more than a casual acquaintance between her and Steven, judging by the way she smiled at him. "How's the sugar trading going?" she asked, starting the conversation in a quirky manner. However, Steven took her words quite literally and started rambling about how figs and dates would be more historically accurate snacks than what the museum provided. Y/N cringed internally, watching him struggle to maintain the conversation. Deciding to give them some privacy, she moved to a nearby shelf and continued stocking items. She still kept a distance where she can still hear the conversation however.

The woman swiftly changed the topic, "Are we still on for 7pm tomorrow?"

Steven looked puzzled, "7pm tomorrow?"

She tilted her head, amused by his confusion but continued smiling, "Best steak in town?"

Y/N furrowed her brows, when did this happen? Steven was usually too shy to speak to anyone, especially attractive women. She sensed the awkwardness in the air and feared Steven would ruin his chance if it continued. Acting quickly, Y/N moved closer to Steven, pretending to wipe down the desk with a cloth. Before the woman could scoff, Y/N discreetly kicked Steven's leg, urging him to respond and not drive her away.

"Oh, uh, right, yeah," he nodded to the woman in front of him. She smiled and walked back to her tour group. Steven watched her walk away, amazed that someone like her would be interested in going out with him. Still, he doesn’t remember when he asked her out. His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N elbowed his arm.

"Damn, look who's got a hot date. Guess I won't be seeing much of you in the future, cousin," she teased.

"Oh, hush now. You didn't think I could do it?" he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you were only staring at her while she waited for you to confirm your date. So I had my doubts," Y/N playfully shrugged. Steven crinkled his face into a smile and lightly pushed Y/N, causing her to giggle. Their lighthearted moment was interrupted when Donna walked in with a surprised expression. Y/N groaned, not wanting to deal with her.

"Stevie, you absolute rascal," Donna chimed in, having overheard their conversation. She always seemed to be eavesdropping on her employees' lives and being a judge. Unlike Y/N, who joked about Steven's dating skills, Donna belittled him. Steven simply would nod and let her walk all over him, as usual.

“Oh, speaking of which, have you guys seen the video of that one guy dressed up as Spider-Man riding the motorcycle?” Y/N laughs awkwardly as she tries to change the subject.

Ignoring her, Donna begins judging their date plan, critiquing the way Steven is a vegan and is going to eat at a steakhouse, because how could a sane person choose to go to an all meat restaurant when their vegan? It’s preposterous. Finally Steven had enough and gave Donna a witty answer, “I don’t know, Donna. Salad? Bread?”.

His witty retort caught Donna and even Y/N off guard. Donna remained silent for a moment before scowling and walking away. Steven huffed and continued working, sensing Y/N's gaze on him.

"Dang, and here I thought I was going to be the first one to blow," Y/N smirked, placing a hand on her hip and leaning on the counter.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it that. I just gave her a response," Steven shrugged with a hint of attitude, prompting Y/N to laugh.

"I'll have to keep that in mind, though. Wouldn't want to catch you on one of your bad days and end up fighting,” Y/N playfully positioned herself in a fighting stance, fists raised as if ready to throw punches at Steven.

Steven shook his head and gently lowered her hands. "Oh, put those tiny fists down. You've got nothing to worry about."

Y/N smirked, "I'll take that as a sign to keep annoying you then."

During their lunch breaks, Steven and Y/N enjoyed sitting together, while having casual conversations about their day or discussing the latest news of villains causing trouble in New York. It was their special time together, unless Y/N entered the break room with some juicy gossip, which Steven secretly enjoyed despite telling her that it wasn't their business.

As Steven sat at the table with his sandwich, already immersed in his meal, he heard the door to the break room open. Soon, Y/N walked in, her familiar smile lighting up her face. He knew that smile meant she had some interesting information to share, which would entertain them both.

"So, guess what I found out on my way to the break room," Y/N pulled out a chair and sat down. Steven, with a mouthful of food, simply nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

Leaning forward, Y/N lowered her voice, "Remember Ava from customer service?"

Steven nodded again, signaling her to proceed. Y/N went on to reveal how their coworker who was crying to her ex-boyfriend about wanting him back, rejected her because she had been cheating on him with his best friend from another department. Steven's jaw dropped, and Y/N confirmed it by nodding, her arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair.

"You're lying," Steven said in disbelief.

"I saw them kissing in the stock room with my own eyes," Y/N shrugged casually. Steven was still a bit shocked by the revelation but accepted the information. "I hope her ex doesn't find out soon, or we might witness a scene right here at the museum."

"I actually hope he does find out. It would definitely make my week," Y/N added with a mischievous smile.

Steven nodded in agreement and then remembered the second sandwich he had packed. He slid it across the table to Y/N, who looked at it and suddenly recalled something.

"Oh yeah," she said, standing up and heading to the fridge. She retrieved two Tupperware containers and heated them in the microwave. Returning to the table, she placed one container in front of Steven and kept the other for herself. Steven glanced down at the closed container, then looked back at Y/N.

"I did some grocery shopping and wanted to make you lunch too," Y/N explained, opening her container to reveal a pair of quesadillas and orange rice. Steven opened his container and found the same dish inside. "Thank you, Y/N, but you didn't have to do this for me," he said, grateful for her gesture.

"You always pack me lunch, and you've been so helpful since I started working here. Consider it a thank you," she replied, taking a bite of the sandwich Steven had made for her before moving on to the food she had packed for him. Steven followed suit, and the two of them enjoyed their meal in comfortable silence.

For Steven, it still felt odd to share his lunch break with someone. He used to eat alone and hardly spoke to anyone in the break room. Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation, most people would simply nod or make an excuse to leave, sometimes both. He thought the same situation would happen with Y/N, where she would stick by him for a week or two before finding her own group of friends. However, to his pleasant surprise, she had stuck by his side and engaged in genuine conversation.

"When do your classes start?" Steven asked, taking a sip from his water bottle while waiting for Y/N's response.

Y/N paused for a moment to think. "I think they start this Tuesday," she finally replied.

Steven nodded in understanding. "Have you gotten all your school supplies?"

Y/N paused again, pursing her lips to the side. "I was able to get some, but I still have a few things to get," she admitted.

"Well, if you're missing anything, I might have some extra supplies I can give you," Steven offered, humming thoughtfully.

Y/N's face lit up. "That would honestly mean a lot to me," she said, feeling the weight of her student debt pressing on her.

——

"I think I'm about done here. Are you ready to go?" Y/N turned to Steven, who was locking up the register.

"Same here," he replied, finishing up his tasks. They gathered their belongings from the locker room and headed out.

As they passed JB, the museum's security man, he spotted them and turned in his chair, a smile on his face. "Heard you're going on a date, Steven," he said, teasingly.

Steven ignored him and simply wished JB a good night, already feeling tired from his shift.

"With this miracle, maybe young Y/N can get herself a first date too," JB continued, practically giggling at his own joke. Y/N forced a laugh and responded, "Fuck you too."

She let out a frustrated huff as they walked out of the museum and down the steps. "All he does is watch videos and watch people pass by. He has no room to talk. It's so annoying," she vented.

"At least you now know how your teasing makes me feel," Steven joked.

"My intentions are pure, from one friend to another," Y/N said, placing her hands over her heart in a humorous gesture.

The bus arrived just in time as they reached the bus stop. The small crowd of people poured in, and since it was late, there were a few empty seats available. Steven and Y/N sat down, stretching their limbs and holding their belongings close to their chests.

"So what are you wearing for your date?" Y/N asked curiously.

Steven shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Honestly, not sure. Plus, it's been a while since I've been on a date, so I don't even know what's appropriate to wear."

Y/N pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, personally, I think it's nice when a guy dresses up a bit more than usual," she said, scanning Steven up and down, making him feel slightly self-conscious. "You could definitely use an upgrade."

Steven glanced down at his jacket and button-up shirt. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"No offense, but they kind of give off a janitor vibe," Y/N replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. Steven looked at her with a half-lidded gaze, not sure if she was being serious. "Oh, how funny," he said sarcastically.

Y/N nudged him lightly with her elbow. "I'm just messing with you. But seriously, I'm going to help you pick out your outfit."

Despite her teasing, it was evident that Y/N cared about Steven as a friend. She often stood up for him, defending him against anyone who spoke ill of him. Whenever she confronted someone, Steven would intervene, pulling her away before things escalated. Later, he would lecture her about not needing her to fight his battles, though he secretly appreciated her support. It always ended with laughter, thanks to the witty comments Y/N made.

Still, Donna was the one person she couldn’t talk back to, for some reason.

——

In the elevator, Steven suddenly remembered his offer to give Y/N the college supplies. "Oh, right. You still want those supplies I mentioned earlier?" he asked, turning to Y/N and catching her off guard.

Y/N blinked for a moment, then replied, "Oh yeah, but if you want we can do it tomorrow."

"Let's be honest, we'll both forget about it by the time we get to our apartments."

Y/N nodded, admitting her forgetfulness. "True. Alright, I guess we'll head to your place first."

As the elevator doors opened, they stepped out and made their way to Steven's door. Y/N waited patiently as he fumbled with the keys to unlock it. Finally, they entered his apartment. Steven placed his satchel on a table and hung his jacket next to it.

"It won't take long, you can hang out with Gus in the meantime," he said, gesturing towards his pet goldfish. He then walked over to a table where a stack of books and other materials were piled up.

Y/N's eyes roamed around the apartment, taking in the decor and the various items scattered about. A large bookshelf filled with books caught her attention as she entered. To the left, there was a table with piles of papers, and to the right, a bulletin board with Egyptian pictures. Rugs were scattered across the floor, and stacks of books and papers added to the organized chaos. As she stepped further in, she heard the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet. Guess it wasn’t just her studio.

Towards the far right side of the apartment, she noticed the kitchen area. An old-style stove stood against the wall, and above it was a large vent with a light at the bottom, an unusual design choice that piqued her curiosity. She then glanced to her left and saw a table stacked with boxes, but what intrigued her were the bags of sand. Puzzled, she shrugged it off and continued towards the center of the apartment.

There, she spotted a fish tank surrounded by books, serving as makeshift support for the tank. Inside, there was a chubby goldfish with only one fin. "You must be Gus, huh?" she murmured, offering a smile to the aquatic resident.

Moving on, her gaze fell upon a small one-seat sofa facing a modest television. It sat atop a table overflowing with books. As she turned to her right, she noticed Steven's bed. Curiosity got the better of her, and she approached for a closer look. To her surprise, she discovered cuffs tied to the bed frame, with sand meticulously spread around it. "That's what the bags of sand were for," she uttered aloud, her voice laced with intrigue.

Just then, Steven walked in, carrying a stack of lined paper, folders, and pencils. “Alright, I have all the things you might need…”, his words trailed off as he caught sight of Y/N staring at his bed. His heart sank, this gave off so many red flags. His thoughts ran more wild as her silence made it worse.

"So, uh, cuffs, huh?" Y/N stood there in shock, her eyes fixed on the restraints attached to the bed. She then turned to Steven, a mix of curiosity and amusement on her face. "Okay, I don't know if this is for murderous or kinky purposes, but strangely enough, I'm not freaked out."

Steven's eyebrows shot up, surprised by her response. "Really?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

She nodded affirmatively. "Yup."

"Well, that's good to hear because both of your assumptions were way off," he said, placing the items he was carrying onto a nearby table. "What other reason could there be?"

Y/N crossed her arms, contemplating for a moment. He walked toward the bed, picking up one of the cuffs. "Well, I sleepwalk," he admitted. "And sometimes it causes me to leave my apartment unknowingly. So I use these," he gestured to the cuff in his hand, "to prevent myself from wandering off."

Y/N took a few seconds to process the information, and then a look of understanding appeared on her face. "Oh, that makes sense," she exclaimed, relieved. "I'm glad it's that and not something more concerning."

Steven let out a small chuckle. "Of course, you surely didn't think I was a–”

"A psychopath with a weird fetish?" she finished his sentence, a playful smile on her lips.

He paused for a moment, then nodded. "Uhm, in short, yes."

Y/N shook her head. "Nah, I know how to spot someone like that from a mile away. And you, sir, have no 'killing spree' bone in you."

"I see. I'm surprised you didn't freak out and run out the door," he remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Y/N's eyes. "Oh, if I were freaked out, I would have pulled out my pepper spray and extendable pole on you," she teased. Steven looked at her in shock, not quite sure what she meant by "extendable pole."

Sensing his confusion, she rummaged through her purse and retrieved a small silver canister with a pin attached to it. Steven furrowed his eyebrows, his curiosity piqued.

"How does that work?" Steven asked.

Y/N grinned mischievously. "You'll see, step back."

Steven obeyed, taking a few steps away from her. Y/N carefully positioned the cylinder so it wouldn't cause any damage. With a swift motion, she pulled the pin, and in an instant, the cylinder transformed into a six-foot pole. Steven jumped back in surprise.

Y/N laughed at his reaction and retracted the pole back into its compact form. "See, now I don't have to worry about being mugged," she said with a satisfied smile.

Steven nodded, still a bit startled. Then he remembered the supplies he had promised Y/N. "Oh yeah, here are the supplies I promised you." Y/N looked at the stack of items and was amazed. "Oh wowm when you said it was a few things, I didn’t think that much," she exclaimed, letting out a small laugh.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Steven walked Y/N to the door. As she opened it, she turned back to him, gratitude in her eyes. "Hey, thanks for the stuff. I really appreciate it. I owe you."

Steven waved her off. "You don't owe me anything, but if you want, you can make me more of that dish you made for lunch."

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yeah! I'll make you more tomorrow," she promised, already looking forward to it. She walked across the hallway to her own door. "Anyways, good night, man. I'll help you with your outfit tomorrow," she called out, unlocking her door and disappearing inside.

———

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows as Y/N slipped on her shoes and made her way to Steven's apartment. She knocked on the door, expecting a prompt response. Silence greeted her. She knocked again, a growing sense of unease creeping up within her. Still, there was no answer. She knocked a few more times, each attempt met with an eerie silence that sent a chill down her spine.

Did he sleep through his alarm again? Y/N pondered, a twinge of worry tugging at her. She reached for her phone and dialed Steven's number, only to be met with the voicemail greeting. She kept trying to calling him, but it was the same automated voice of Steven.

Frustration mounting, Y/N's concern turned into alarm. She started to pound on the door, her fists connecting with the solid wood. "Hey, Steven! Wake up!" Her voice echoed through the hallway as she relentlessly banged on the door. She was probably waking up the neighbors, but she didn't care. Something wasn't right. This wasn't like him. Did he pass out? Did he leave without her? He would have told her before he left.

Anxiety slowly crept into her body as she wondered about Steven. "Where is he?" she muttered.

Chapter Text

In a rush, Y/N ascended the stairs of the museum and swiftly approached JB, who was predictably leaning in his chair, engrossed in his phone. When wasn't he?

Spotting Y/N, JB put on a sly smile, ready to provoke her. "Well, if it isn't the little gremlin."

She rolled her eyes, cutting straight to the point. "Did you see Steven come in?"

JB tapped his finger on his lips, feigning deep thought, but eventually shrugged. "I don't see him with you."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, her nose scrunching slightly. "Oh, well, would you look at that? He isn't standing right beside me? How foolish of me," she mocked with a British accent. "Do you honestly believe I would waste my breath talking to you if I had walked in with him?"

JB practically shrank in his chair under the force of Y/N's newfound energy. "No, miss. I didn't see him come in."

Huffing in frustration, Y/N turned away and made her way to the locker room before heading back to the gift shop. That day, she didn't observe the customers browsing like she usually did; instead, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Steven's whereabouts.

If he were traveling somewhere, he would have told her. However, she had to face the reality that she was just a simple neighbor who happened to work with him. It stung a little, but it was true. Thinking further, back in California, her neighbors felt like family, always informing one another about their plans. But this was England, and things might be different.

"Where's the other worker?" a man interrupted her thoughts, already placing a few items on the counter as he waited for assistance.

Momentarily confused by his question, the man noticed her reaction and clarified, "Oh, sorry if I sounded creepy. I just always see him working here."

Y/N offered a reassuring smile. "That's alright. He's probably called in sick or something. Will this be all for you today?"

The man hummed, contemplating for a moment. "Actually, can I just get this one?" he pointed to a ceramic figure depicting a half-crocodile, half-woman creature, likely an ancient Egyptian goddess. Steven would have known and likely kept the man here longer while he explained her origins.

"Sure, no problem," Y/N responded, canceling the other items and proceeding to provide him with the total. He nodded, paying in cash, and thanked her before reaching for his belongings.

As the man retrieved his items, Y/N noticed a similar tattoo on his forearm. She furrowed her brow, connecting the tattoo to the cashier she had seen in the restaurant about a month ago.

In an instant, she looked up and caught the man's smiling face. His small eyes, consumed by his wide grin, sent a shiver down her spine. It was a haunting sight that simultaneously chilled and warmed her blood.

By the time Y/N snapped out of her trance, the man had vanished. She took deep breaths, attempting to steady her racing heart. Were they following her? Who were they? And why had he been looking for Steven?

Once she reached a calm state, she rolled her shoulders back, as if trying to shake off the remnants of a panic attack. As if having a panic attack wasn’t enough, Donna approached her with a loud exclamation. "Where the bloody hell is Steven?"

Y/N sighed, feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to go home early. Frustrated, she replied, "I don't know."

Donna's brows furrowed. "How do you not know? He's your cousin."

Y/N shrugged wearily, locking eyes with Donna. Exhausted and longing to go home early, she mustered a response. “Well that is stupendous,” Donna crossed her arms, “It looks like you’ll be working overtime.”

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? Why?"

Donna maintained her stern posture. "It's too late to call in other people, and besides, you're his cousin and you’ll get hours in." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Y/N groaning and throwing her head back in frustration. "Damn it, Steven."

——

After a long day at work, Y/N finally had the chance to head home. Luckily, she found an empty seat on the bus where she could rest her tired legs. Looking out the window, she saw the dark streets of London. Usually she rode the bus with a conversation between her and Steven, but he obviously wasn’t here. She checked her phone to see if he sent her a text or tried calling her, but she had no new notifications from him. She sighed and used this time to break the silence, putting in her earbuds and pressed play on her playlist.

Once she arrived to the bus stop, she hopped out and approached the apartment building. A few of the sellers who would put their stand infront of the entrance were packing up for the day as she weaved through the small group.

She entered the building, the man from when she first got to London gave her a wave, “Hello Ms.L/N, how has your first month been?”.

“It’s been good, aside from dealing with work,” she offered a quick smile. The man nodded, “Where is the man you usually walk in with? Sebastian? Stephen?”

“Steven,” she clarified, “and he stayed in sick today,”. The man didn’t say anything and only nodded, waving off to Y/N. She gave him a quick nod and walked into the elevator.

Y/N turned to one of the mirrors in the elevator and looked at her reflection. Her hair and clothes were disheveled from working twice as hard for todays shift. The lines of her eyes were exhausted and her mouth was slightly downturned. Her posture was almost similar to Steven’s. Aside from her appearance, she felt tired and only wanted seclude herself in her apartment. She felt pathetic.

Like always, the lights in the elevator began to flicker which she was already used to. They continued to flicker until the elevator chimed and its doors opened, leading her out to the hallway.

She sat her belongings down once she opened her door, taking a moment to look around. Her first paycheck was not a lot but she was able to buy a few essentials. She finally bought a mattress which was used but she couldn’t care less. Steven helped her take it up to the apartment where she left it on the right corner floor of her flat. It wasn’t much but her back still thanked her for the comforting surface. A few rugs were also donated by Steven including a few Egyptian paintings and posters, scattered around the studio. It made the place come together and feel more like home.

Kicking off her shoes, she walked to her bed and fell on it. She closed her eyes for a second before looking up at the ceiling. Her mind was still consumed by the thoughts of the man and the cashier, the ones with the tattoos. It was odd that she met one in the beginning of the month and the other when Steven turned up missing.

Then the unsettling idea crept into her mind. What if Steven was gone because of them? The thought made her stomach churn, not wanting to know what they could have done to him. It was inevitable still, her mind showing her disturbing images of Steven tied up to a chair or in a dark basement. She closed her eyes, attempting to push away such a grim outcome. Maybe she relied on Steven too much, and that's why she was so worried.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, which thankfully distracted her. Glancing at the lock screen, she saw a message from her brother, asking how things were going in London. She replied and after asking how they were, he suggested a phone call. She hesitated, knowing he would likely pick up on any hint of distress in her voice. But if she didn't call, it would be more of the same.

She dialed his number, and he answered promptly. "So, how is it living in an apartment?" he asked.

"Kinda sucks. Not much privacy and the lights flicker so often," she replied.

"You might have gotten a haunted place then," her brother teased.

Y/N chuckled, offering a witty retort as she got up and retrieved the lunch she had made for Steven from her bag. Her brother continued the conversation as she heated up her dinner. Eventually, she thought if whether to mention her new friend, the 30-year-old friend who lived across the hall but decided against it.

She focused on sharing her experiences of her first week working at the museum and exploring the city. The phone call carried on for another ten minutes before her brother bid her farewell and they hung up.

———
Deciding to the use the weekend to be productive, Y/N used her time to run errands. A few consisted getting more things for the apartment and get fresh air, especially with encountering the people with matching tattoos. She grabbed her tote bag and apartment keys, and stepped out of the door. As she glanced at Steven's door, she noticed the golden number drilled onto it.

Maybe he was inside, sleeping in today. He probably came back from whatever he was doing yesterday. Yet for some reason her hand began knocking on his door on its own. She half-expected the door to swing open and he would be there in his sweats and t-shirt, groggy from being waken up. Realizing he never told her about his absence and apologizing or becoming frazzled for missing his date with Dylan the tour guide. Something, anything.

But there was nothing.

She sighed, not wanting to waste her time knocking again, she continued on to the elevator.

-

She used the bus as her main way to get around and traveled to a thrift store that she had visited a while ago when she was searching for items for the apartment. It was small, but it had many worthy things for a fair price in her budget. She searched the aisles for any clothing items and decorations to add to her studio. As she browsed, her eyes landed on a small bronze jar adorned with Egyptian hieroglyphs. Her eyes glazed over it and she thought about how Steven would love it.

As a sign to buy it, the lights began to flicker in the store, oddly it was only in her area, everyone else didn’t notice. “Weird, does every building in England have this problem?” she mumbled to herself, putting the item into the small basket she had. It sort of freaked her out but she didn't mind and took her things to the register.

Walking down the street, she noticed that the day was gradually becoming grayer. Puzzled, she looked up and saw dark clouds blanketing the London sky, casting a gloomy atmosphere. Soon enough, small raindrops began to fall, growing in intensity with each passing moment until it was pouring.

“Shit.” she cursed and quickly grabbed her bag, putting it on top of her head. She hurriedly made her way to the bus stop, where the bus was just about to finish loading passengers. Thankfully, she managed to board before the doors closed. Securing a window seat, she gazed outside as the rain painted the streets in a glistening sheen.

Looking around the bus, she noticed how everyone had an umbrella, feeling like an outcast.

When the bus reached her stop, she continued to shield herself with her bag while others used umbrellas. She power-walked towards her apartment, which unfortunately was just a block away. The cold air wrapped around her, and the rain pelted against her face, urging her to pick up her pace. The once-dry tote bag became soaked, and soon enough, she was no longer dry herself. Finally turning the corner, she caught sight of the building and dashed towards the entrance.

She entered her apartment and placed her belongings on the table, relieved to find that her phone hadn't gotten wet. Making her way to the stack of clothes near her bed, she grabbed a cozy oversized t-shirt and sweatpants before taking a long, hot shower.

Sitting on her mattress while she dried her hair, she checked the weather on her phone. The rain was expected to stop by seven in the evening. Suddenly a notification slid down from the top of her phone screen with a light ‘ding’. Expecting it to be from her brother, her eyes widened slightly once she read the name. It was from Steven.

She tapped the message quickly and read the message.

'Hey Y/N, sorry I ghosted you for the past two days, fault on my part. I had an emergency with my mum but it is all well. See you soon :)'

Y/N stared at the message and she felt herself become relieved. Her theory about the tattooed people and Steven were wrong, thankfully. She wrote back a quick message saying it was no problem, to which she was left delivered. Still it was better to know what happened than not knowing.

Her stomach growled, cutting her train of thought. She got up from the mattress and walked to the fridge to see if there was anything eat. Unfortunately, you were only met with a jug of milk and disappointment. “How am I out?” she scrunched her face, confused.

She made her way to the large window and noticed that the rain ceased. It was still cloudy and chilly, but the sweater she had on would work. Y/N checked the next bus that would make its way to the stop and realized she would be home late if she took it. Thus leading her to walk to the market instead. Thankfully it was only about a block away.

The walk was pleasant, keeping her mind at ease. Especially with the scent of petrichor, a refreshing reminder of how it rained an hour ago. She looked up and noticed that the sun would begin its descent within an hour, or perhaps even less. Increasing her pace, she soon arrived at the small market.

It was an inviting building adorned with plants, and a neon sign saying it was open. Stepping inside, she saw aisles stretching toward the back, and at the front, a stand showcased a vibrant array of fruits and vegetables. Retrieving her shopping list, she set about collecting the items she needed.

There were several people in the store, but they came and went quickly. Most likely they were just there for a quick errand. As Y/N browsed through the aisles, she overheard a conversation between two older women. One of them asked, "Did you hear what happened in Switzerland?" and the other replied, "No, what happened?"

"Well, supposedly there are some suspicious things going on over there. They found a man badly beaten on the side of the street," the first woman explained.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. What was so strange about that? Maybe it wasn’t a normal thing to be heard of around the city, but it wouldn’t be much of her worries. As she reached for a box of cereal, she caught snippets of their conversation as they walked away.

"They say he was part of a big cult. He had a tattoo of a scale," one of the women mentioned.

All the energy seemed to drain from Y/N's fingertips, causing her to lose her grip on the box, which dropped to the floor. The women stared at her, and Y/N quickly smiled and picked it up. She clutched her chest, her breathing growing rapid. She took small breaths to calm herself, it felt like her throat was closing in.

It was, or rather is, a cult that has been following her and Steven. Why? What did she do? Her paranoia got the better of her, she looked around immediately, wondering if a member was in the same market as her. Deciding to wrap up her grocery shopping and only grab the essentials, she headed to the checkout counter.

On her walk back home, she looked down, lost in thought. Although she had managed to regain her composure, the idea of a cult following her was unsettling and not something she wanted to entertain.

Y/N stepped outside, the dark streets greeted her, illuminated only by the streetlights and passing car headlights. With a block of walking ahead, she initially decided to listen to music through her earbuds to pass the time. However, she quickly removed them, realizing that it might make her more vulnerable to a potential attack by a cult member. Now, she was left with the sounds of passing cars and the squelching of her wet footsteps.

There weren’t many out, which made her anxious. She held her phone close to her body in case any attacker would try to give her a hard time. As if her anxiety couldn’t get worse, in the distance was a man stumbling ahead of her. He seemed injured, clutching his ribs as if he had been in a fight. He eventually veered into an alley.

"Don't think about it," Y/N muttered to herself, trying to suppress her curiosity. She kept her gaze fixed on the concrete, but her eyes involuntarily wandered towards the approaching alley. She shook her head, yelling at herself to not let her curiosity get the better of her.

She wanted to punch herself. She peeked into the alley, without stepping further in, in case it was a trap or something dangerous. "This is how people get kidnapped," she scolded herself, yet her feet carried her closer to the end of the alley. The man she saw leaned against a wall, light groans being heard until they were interrupted by vomit.

Y/N breathed in, trying to gather any bravery she had left. "Hey, are you alright?" she asked him calmly, doing her best to steady her voice and conceal any fear.

The man jerked his head up, searching for the source of the voice. His eyes widened a little, but he winced in pain, shutting his eyes and clutching his chest.

She took in the man’s features, noting his pale face and clothes that seemed too large for him, as if he had borrowed them. The dim lighting in the alley made it difficult to tell his facial features, but she could see that he had shaggy hair. Alone from his appearance, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties.

The man collapsed to his knees, supporting himself with only one arm. "I don't know what's happening to me. It hurts!"

Y/N remained frozen for a moment before retrieving her phone. "I'll call an ambulance for you, okay? Just stay right there," she gestured for him to remain where he was.

This seemed to freak the man out, his head looking back at her with wide eyes, “No! You can’t, i’ll only hurt more people.” He whimpered before he broke into sobs.

His outburst startled Y/N, making her step back, feeling all the courage she had left vanish. Fear and confusion washed over her, making her heart race. She wanted to run straight to her place but she knew she would feel guilty. “Okay, well you’re going to have to work with me. The ambulance or the police might be the only–”.

"Shut up!" The man's voice changed, becoming deeper, as if there were two voices overlapping. Alongside his voice, she noticed black veins creeping out from the collar of his shirt, snaking up towards his chin.

Y/N recoiled at the sudden action, immediately closing her mouth and retreating further. She clutched her phone, her other hand forming a fist. The man retreated into the darkness of the alley, disappearing from her sight. Silence filled the air, thick with tension. She wanted to run but she was afraid to turn her back to the dangerous man.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of cracking coming from the end of the alley. Summoning her remaining courage, she quickly retrieved her phone and turn on the built in flashlight.

Without warning, she heard rapid footsteps approaching, and the man's figure emerged charging towards her. She had barely any time to process the situation before he pounced on her, knocking her to the ground. Her phone skidded away, and her groceries spilled from her bag, scattering across the ground. The impact left her winded, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared up at the man towering over her.

The man tightened his grip around Y/N's neck, cutting off her breath and leaving her gasping for air. She desperately clawed at his hands, trying to trying to free herself but he was too strong. Her arms felt weak, and she scanned her surroundings for something, anything, that could help her. For a moment she thought she saw black goo covering his arms, moving towards her. The side of her neck felt a rush of cold and chills ran down her spine.

Suddenly, the black slime evaporated into her skin, leaving the man weak. It was her opportunity. Summoning all her strength, Y/N used her legs to kick him off her. He fell to the ground, motionless. Gasping for air, she propped herself up, touching her neck where his hands had made contact. She looked over at the man and saw that he remained still.

With shaky legs and a hot sensation coursing through her body, Y/N stood up. She quickly gathered her belongings, shining her phone's light on the man. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes stared wide open. She looked at his chest to see for any signs of breathing, but it remained still.

"Oh my god…" she stumbled back, the realization sinking in that the man was no longer alive. It wasn't like the movies she had watched; this was real. There was a dead person right in front of her.

Clutching her groceries and phone tightly, Y/N cast one final glance at the lifeless man before breaking into a sprint, racing out of the alley. The deserted streets allowed her to run straight back to her apartment without encountering anyone.

Her quick, wet footsteps and panting echoed in her ears as she made her way home. She no longer cared if she was being followed by a cult member, all she wanted was to lay down on her bed. To wrap herself with her blanket and cry until she fell asleep.

Upon buzzing herself into the building, the older building owner noticed her distressed state as she hurried towards the elevators. "Hey, are you feeling alright?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"All good," she replied, giving a hurried thumbs-up before stepping into the elevator as the doors opened.

Once she reached her floor, Y/N hastened to her door, her trembling hands struggling to find the keyhole. After what felt like an eternity, she finally heard the satisfying click of the lock.

She entered her flat, placing the groceries on the dining table without bothering to change out of her clothes. Exhausted, she made a beeline for her mattress. Despite the soreness in her body, she felt relief as she settled into her bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to push the events out of her mind. It was something to worry about in the morning.

Still, it was difficult to not imagine the haunting empty eyes of the man.

Chapter Text

The whole of the apartment was filled with rays of the sun. . The brightness of the morning woke Y/N, groaning at how her body felt so weak and sore.

She opened her eyes, blinking away the grogginess and sat up. Small dust particles could be seen in the light, evidence of the flat needing cleaning. Letting out a small groan again, she fell back onto her pillow which she soon regret when she felt an abrupt feeling come from her throat.

Y/N rushed to the restroom and kneeled down to the toilet, heaving continents of her stomach. She wiped the excess from her lips and went to the sink to brush away the foul taste.

As she brushed, she looked at herself in the mirror and noticed how pale she looked. The collar of her hoodie was damp from her sweating all night. She had dark bags under her eyes and her lips were chapped.

“I look fucked up,” she commented, spitting out the foam in her mouth. Looking back up, she was met with a quick reflection of her eyes gone and replaced with long white curvy ones. She let out a gasp before she quickly opened the faucet and splashed water on her face.

Once she looked back up she was back to normal, her eyes back to the standard color. She stared at her reflection for a moment, waiting if she might get another hallucination which never came.

Y/N walked to the kitchen to prepare her breakfast but paused when she saw the bag of groceries still on the dining table. That’s when the memories of last night hit her like a train. She remembered everything. From the walk to the grocery store to the dark alley, to the man.

Her breath hitched, the remembrance of how the man tackled her down and pinned her to the floor. How she kicked him off of her and how his lifeless body laid on the ground. Did she kill him? Her breath began to quicken with the thought of killing someone, especially just leaving their corpse in such place like an alley.

She shook her head slightly trying to shake off the thoughts, but she then began to think of how he begged her for help. How she couldn’t do anything. The guilt was eating her, thinking of how his last moments were lived in pain as he looked to the one person who could have helped.

Still, what could a young girl like her do? There may be heroes in this world, but she wasn’t one, and never will be.

Light knocking snapped her out of her thoughts, bringing a second of silence to the apartment before there was more knocking.

Instinct told her it was probably Steven as she began to make her way to the door but she stopped. There was also the possibility of the cult finding her, how did they find her apartment? Who knows.

Paranoia began to infest her mind. Against the better of her logic, she imagined the dead man from last night standing at her door knocking away. His thin and pale body leaning to the side as he tries to get inside. Darn her imagination.

Between a few of the knocks she heard a faint voice, almost recognizable. “Y/N? Are you back from work?”

She peeked through the peephole of the door, the figure seeming blurry through her vision but soon focused on a familiar face.

Steven stood at her door, pausing at each knock as he waited for an answer. He wore a comfortable outfit; a grey knit sweater with jeans and his hair styled as usual. There weren’t signs of him in distress or as if he escaped from a basement, probing Y/N’s theory incorrect.

With no response, he figured that Y/N was still at work or on her way. Steven turned to head into his apartment when he heard the rattle of doorknob behind him. Once he turned to face the young girl, he wasn’t expecting to see her in a disheveled state.

He took notice oh how her undereyes were heavy and her forehead had a sheen of sweat. “You don’t look too well, love. Did you get a fever last night? I hope you didn’t go to work in that state. Speaking of which, I profoundly apologize for missing my alarm, I bet you were yelling at me through the door,”

Y/N furrowed her brows and thought of what day it was today, “Work? We’re off today, remember?”

Steven blinked almost believing her but offered her a smile, “Ah, good one, you are such a prankster. That isn’t right though, is it? It’s Friday.”

He stood quite proudly, usually he would always fall for Y/N’s pranks but this time he didn’t. Y/N was rather confused however, was he playing a prank on her this time? Not exactly how you would do one.

She walked away from the door which caused Steven to hold the door open before it swung closed. He eyed Y/N as she made her way to the dining table to grab her phone. She wondered if maybe the events of Friday to now were all just a fever dream. Maybe it was Friday after all.

Her phone however opposed that thought, telling her it was actually five of the afternoon on a Sunday.

—

At Steven’s flat, the two sat across from each other at his dining table. Y/N explained to him how he went missing for three days, keeping out the event of last night. He seemed shocked for the most part before he frowned and took a sip from the tea he prepped for him and Y/N.

“So I guess I missed my date with Dylan?”

Y/N hesitated but slowly nodded, giving him an apologetic frown. She felt terrible for him, even though he didn’t remember he asked Dylan out, for whatever reason, he seemed excited. Then again how busy was he with his mother for him to not realize he was gone for those days?

“Unfortunately, you did and if I was her, I wouldn’t be too happy to see you tomorrow at work,” Y/N crossed her arms and leaned her back against the chair. Steven nodded, looking down at his cup. He sure did seem lost in the whole situation.

There was a stiff pause before she raised a brow as she looked at Steven and spoke, “You seem very confused for someone who went to take care of their mom, speaking of which I hope she’s doing okay,”

Steven furrowed his brows and tilted his head slightly. Last time he remembered his mother was off in the countryside and thankfully well. It has been a while since he saw her and knows he has not gone to see her recently.

“My mother?”

“Yeah?”

“I never went to see my mum, it’s been months since I did actually,”

She looked at him trying to find any hint that he was joking. Instead his eyes were only resided and looked at her for the same reason.

“Right, and I am actually a ghost. I literally have the message from when you texted me,” she gestured to her phone that was on the table. She opened the messaging app ready to show him the proof but staggered.

Concerned, Steven asked, “What?”

Despite the fact that there was no reason to, Y/N attempted to scroll through the messages in search of the one she mentioned. There were, however, none.

"I swear they were right here," she scratched her head, knowing it couldn't have been her who deleted them, unless her phone had a glitch.

Steven watched as she became even more stressed before taking her phone and putting it down, saying, "Hey, I believe you but I really don't remember. I remember giving you those school supplies, saying good night, and going to bed, and now I hear I was gone for days,"

He really was telling the truth, Y/N could tell. "Yeah, I just like seeing the logical side of things," she groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe you blacked out?"

"Probably," Steven shrugged, taking another sip of his tea, "but I would have been dehydrated or something if that were the case."

Y/N hummed in response and followed his lead with her tea. So much has gone on in the past few days in a quick record of time. It was honestly straining for her brain.

It was quiet between the two, but it was a pleasant atmosphere. The light sound of London's busy streets could be heard just outside the window, which easily filled the space. It was strange in this situation because the two had only known each other for a month.

In spite of this, they made silence something that they can share without feeling the need to break it.

Steven looked around the apartment when his eyes landed on the box of chocolates that he bought for his date, which was out the window now. Y/N eyed him as he grabbed the chocolates to which he noticed, “Guess we shouldn’t let these go to waste, right? Besides, it will probably make you feel better,”

He opened the container and grabbed a piece before sliding it towards Y/N. She shrugged and grabbed one aswell, it was like any chocolates you would find for Valentine’s Day. She popped it into her mouth, her cheeks getting goosebumps at the sudden sweet taste. Steven hummed at the savory treat, his hand reaching for another.

The silence came back but they didn’t complain until Y/N found a bottle of wine sitting at the table, which she weirdly just noticed.

"These chocolates alone probably won't do the job," she said, motioning to the bottle. Steven's eyes widened as he realized what she was insinuating and he immediately shook his head.

“Absolutely not! Your mind is still developing and this will not help, just drink your tea,” he said, lifting his cup to his mouth.

Y/N's shoulders sagged as he heard the unfavorable news. Still, she wasn't surprised he objected; he'd always had fatherly instincts since she'd known him. "It's just a sip, maybe it'll loosen us up because we need it."

He looked at her, studying if she was in the right head space. She was only eighteen; yes, it was legal for someone her age to drink in the UK, but he still thought it was terrible. Yet, he knew he needed more than a few sips with this long day; he could only imagine how much stress she was under when he went cold turkey.

Steven sighed and took a hold of the dark bottle, saying, “Alright, only a sip and off to bed with you.”

“Only a sip.”

Is what they tried to stick with, but after an hour, they were about halfway through the bottle. The effects weren’t taking a toll on Steven since he knew how to keep his alcohol down, still he felt loose. When it came to Y/N whatsoever, she found everything rather comical while still keeping a conscious mind.

Some of the conversations consisted of how the two’s love life have treated them terrible. As she spun the last few drops of red wine in the mug she used for the (now gone) tea, Y/N shared her envy of how at least Steven had someone who was interested in him.

“Back at my hometown, no one looked at my direction, if they did, it wasn’t that they were focused on me but more towards my friends who were next to me,” she let out a small laugh.

Steven frowned at her statement before pouring a bit more in his cup, “It’ll happen soon, hell this was the first and I am in my 30s. Just give it time and you’ll find the one, you are still young and much more social than I am.”

"If I'm being honest, I think you are the most social. Even though you did freeze the moment Dylan spoke to you," she teased, to which Steven responded with a glance.

As the topic of relationships slowly faded, Steven and Y/N found themselves diving into stories from their childhood. With each tale, they were able to look through a window of how their two lives differentiated.

Odd how two different worlds could clash from one encounter.

With every story they exchanged, their friendship grew stronger, discovering more common ground than they could have imagined. They laughed at each other’s funny moments and empathized some trials they faced as kids.

"For my birthday, my parents would buy this big chocolate cake," Steven reminisced, his eyes lighting up with fond memories. "After I blew out the candles, they would only get one slice while they left the rest for me."

Y/N listened attentively, a smile playing on her lips as she reached for another chocolate from the heart-shaped box. "That sounds nice, different from the birthdays I had or attended though."

“What do you mean?”

A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes as she recounted the unique tradition. "Well, for one, once we blew out the candles, they would tell us to take a bite from the cake, but it was always a trick. The moment your face was only an inch away, splat! Someone already dunked your whole head into the pastry."

Steven's eyes widened in amusement, trying to picture the hilarious scene. "And you would still eat it?"

Y/N nodded with a playful grin, "Yeah, wouldn't want it to go to waste."

Her hand tried to grab another chocolate from the box, only to find it empty. Taking a look she realized that they both finished the entire thing, “Guess we didn’t let those go to waste either,” she giggled.

Steven looked at the box and turned to grab the bottle only to see the last bit of it towards the bottom, “Yup, we sure didn’t”

Y/N looked at the two containers before letting out another laugh, and Steven couldn't help but join in as well. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe they just completely lost it, but they didn’t care.

The scent of chocolate lingered in the air, mingling with the sounds of their laughter. The apartment was dark with only the light of Gus’s fish tank and the light above their heads illuminating their view. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their little cocoon of merriment. All their worries and responsibilities were forgotten for that moment.

They didn’t remember the last time they laughed this hard, especially while sharing it with someone.

———

The morning sun came, waking Y/N from her slumber. She expected for some kind of hangover but was surprised to find none. It seemed like she was a heavyweight when it came to her alcohol. Maybe.

She quickly dressed for her upcoming work shift at the museum, dressing warmly because it was chilly outside.

She sat at the table, making herself a quick plate of breakfast while waiting for Steven to get ready. Hoping he wasn’t missing again. She scrolled through social media for a few minutes, seeing how many posts some mutuals had uploaded.

One post she came across was from a woman she followed; usually, she would post recent news; politics, celebrities, and even supers would get their due. She clicked on the video and let it play, curious as to what she had missed.

The woman gave her usual brief introduction before diving into the topic, "Do I have crazy news for you guys! On Friday afternoon, law enforcement officials reported that a Hydra base had been discovered in London!"

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly but she didn’t give it much thought, continuing to listen.

"However, it turns out that this base was conducting experiments on people, what kind of experiments? It hasn't been stated, but that is irrelevant. As they tried to save the victims, one fled the building, attacking any officers who were in the way. The video I'm about to show you is of his escape."

A video was shown of a cell being opened and officers entering with their guns drawn. They were thrown against the wall and fell unconscious before they could check the room. A dark figure emerged from the dust and gunshots, with what appeared to be long tentacles that quickly multiplied into many. As officers tried to apprehend him, his limbs wound back and fired at them. The video footage was cut off before the attack could be shown.

“Crazy stuff, huh? Well us at HQ did a bit of snooping around and found out who was our escapee. His name is Marcus Bourne,” the video cut from showing the woman to showing a picture of the said man. He had pale skin and mid-length dark hair, wearing what seemed to be a grey tank top.

The moment he came on screen, Y/N’s body tensed up, her muscles stiffening. The familiar face on the screen triggered a flood of memories from that Saturday night, and she could feel her chest tightening with each breath she took.

Her breaths became shallow and rapid, ar if her lungs refused to cooperate. Her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest, its thumping echoing loudly in her ears.

“Poor guy. Everyone who is in London or near, stay cautious. Officials say if you see him to–” Y/N immediately closed out of the app and put her phone down.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably. She clutched to the edge of the seat, desperate to anchor herself. Her mind continued replaying the scene over and over again, tormenting her.

A knock echoed through the apartment, snapping her out of her thoughts. Startled, she turned her head towards the door, trying to steady her rapid breathing. Glancing at the clock, she realized how quickly the minutes had passed.

Grateful for Steven's timely arrival, she hurried to the door and opened it. Without a second thought, she embraced him, seeking comfort in his presence. His jacket enveloped her, and she breathed in his familiar scent, finding comfort.

However, she noticed that he didn't respond to the hug, and instead, he cleared his throat, causing her to release him abruptly.

"Oh, sorry. It's just... well, I don't have a good explanation," she chuckled nervously, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. At least she wasn't panicking like earlier.

When she finally looked at him, she couldn't shake off the strange feeling that something was off.

It was undoubtedly Steven standing there, but he didn't seem like himself. He was usually slouching, but now he stood tall and rigid, his jaw clenched tightly. The most striking change was in his eyes.

They appeared sharper and more intense, looking down at her with an unfamiliar intensity that made her feel small – a feeling she had never experienced with the real Steven.

She furrowed her brows and before she could speak, he said a quick, “Let’s go.”

He turned and immediately started walking towards the elevator leaving her behind. Shocked, she quickly grabbed her bag and locked her door before running down the hall to catch up to him.

The elevator door slid open, and the two stepped inside, a momentary hush settling between them before Y/N decided to break it.

"Geez, are you in a rush or something?" Her words carried a hint of suspicion, but all she received in response was silence from him.

“Steven?”

Once again she her question hung unanswered in the air. Growing tired of this treatment, she aggressively tapped his shoulder to which his shoulders tensed to.

With a roll of his eyes and an exasperated exhale, he turned his gaze toward her. "What?"

"Is everything okay?" Her voice took on a slightly assertive tone. "You're usually the one who starts the conversations."

“Let’s stay quiet on the way to work, alright?” his replies was curt, his attention set to avoid her.

Her eyes widened, caught off guard by his response. Offended and perplexed, she had half a mind to give him a piece of her mind, but another thought flickered across her consciousness. His voice – it sounded different, lacking the usual accent.

Before she could react further, the elevator doors slid open again, and he walked out without waiting for her. She didn’t have a moment to comprehend the situation before she fixed the bag strap on her shoulder and followed quickly behind.

The both of them were on the bus before Y/N knew it. It was a quiet environment between the two.

Usually Steven was the type to check in on her, make sure she was alright, but this time it was nothing. In response, it was Y/N who found herself grappling with whether he was angry at how the two became intoxicated last night.

With only a few minutes until their arrival, Y/N kept herself occupied by quietly observing her fellow passengers. Her attention was drawn to a mother gently cradling her baby, a touching scene. The following image depicted an elderly gentleman with his hand firmly gripping a cane for support. Then there was a group of friends having a lively conversation.

There wasn’t a remarkable story to see nor be able to use as a topic to break the silence between her and her neighbor. She shifted her gaze back to Steven, the question of how his accent went away still weighed on her thoughts.

Exhaling audibly, she finally broke the prolonged silence, “Look, if you’re angry about me sort of pushing you to have wine, then I am sorry,”

Anticipating his gaze to meet hers, hoping for a hint of understanding in his eyes, she found herself met with the same fixed stare directed out the window.

“I really am sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with my antics, I just…wanted to have fun or something,” her voice trailed off, realizing she didn't have a clear reason in mind.

She avoid glancing at him, expecting she would only be met with another bout of silence. “Could you at least say something?” she pressed, frustration nudging into her voice.

When she finally looked at him, the realization hit her like a cold wave. Steven's body was tense, his fist clenched and quivering. Her gaze moved from his trembling hand to his face. His eyes seemed to be rolling back, his breathing strained.

“Steven?” Her voice was tinged with concern as she shook him gently, only to feel his tremors intensify. “Steven!”

Panic gripped her as she frantically scanned the bus for help. The mother offered a sympathetic look but averted her eyes, the elderly man stared at the floor, and the group of friends seemed to find amusement in the spectacle, recording it on their phones.

Steven's eyes widened, and a scream ripped from his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. Y/N was startled, her grip on him loosening instinctively as she wondered if her touch had triggered this reaction. His scream faded as quickly as it had come, and he looked around, confusion clouding his features like a jigsaw puzzle of fragmented memories.

“Steven, you okay? What happened?” Her voice quivered with a mixture of concern and confusion, her brow furrowing as she held his gaze, searching for answers. His posture shifted back to normal, aside from his panicked look.

He looked at her and slowly understood the situation, he sleep walked again. This time however he awoke to being on the bus in his work clothes which was odd. His sleep walking was getting worse.

“We have to get off.”

She looked at him to see if he was serious and saw how his eyes carried a genuine fear in them. She nodded and the two called for the bus driver to stopm quickly getting down from the bus.

Steven looked back and his eyes widened, recognizing one of the passengers, “Oh my god, he’s real,”

Y/N stared at the vehicle leaving and back to Steven who continued to stare, “Who?”

He shook his head quickly, “I’ll explain later, we should just go before they come,”

Steven broke off into a speed walk, heading straight to the museum which was a block or two away still. Y/N paused for a second, frazzled by what just happened. First it was the way he acted to how he was acting now. It was too much and it was just about nine of the morning.

–

Entering the museum's entrance, Steven made a beeline for JB, who, as usual, was engrossed in his phone. Despite his apparent distraction, JB always had a keen awareness of the museum's visitors.

“Ah, there you are, Scotty. You gave little Y/N quite a fright,” JB teased, casting an amused glance at Y/N, who responded with a frustrated, deadpan stare.

Aware of the tension, Steven shot Y/N an apologetic look before he began explaining his predicament to JB. Y/N stood to the side, listening as Steven tried to make JB understand, each explanation met with a witty retort.

“How do you propose I put a stop to it?”

“Just don’t let them in”

“You do realize it’s a free admission to the public right?” JB leaned back in his chair, eliciting a faint creak from the leather.

Y/N groaned before stepping into the conversation, “Look dude, it’s been a long morning, just do this one thing and after that you can continue sitting on your ass–”

“Finally, you two show up! There are boxes of items you need to set up,” Donna interjected, brandishing a box as she approached Steven and Y/N.

“Right, I'll get to that, but first, I need to –” Steven attempted to explain, only for Donna to cut him off, showing no interest in his excuses.

“You missed work yesterday; that was a warning,” she asserted, her attention unwavering.

While Steven endeavored to reason with Donna's intransigence, Y/N surveyed the museum's visitors. Her gaze skimmed over the various faces until it rested on one that was eerily familiar – the man who had purchased the crocodile figure on Friday, the one with the unsettling smile.

Startled, she instinctively stepped back, just as she heard Steven gasp, “Oh my god, that man was on the bus,”

The puzzle pieces clicked into place for Y/N. She looked at Steven with a mix of shock and realization, “The cult is following you too?”

Caught in a moment of shared understanding, Steven mirrored her expression, “You're dealing with them as well?”

Conflicted between terror and a strange solace that she wasn't facing this alone, Y/N considered that if the cult was initially after Steven, their interest might have shifted to her as a means to get to him. The question lingered – why Steven?

Donna’s impatience interrupted their thoughts. “I couldn't care less; can you two just take these –”

“Give us a minute,” Steven interjected, and he and Y/N moved away from her.

Taking the lead, Y/N guided them toward the stock room, a retreat from the mounting chaos. “Let’s just get away from here and we’ll just catch our breaths in the stock room, yeah?” She glanced at Steven, who nodded in agreement.

A male voice sounded from behind them, stopping them in their tracks. "So, you do work here," the voice said. They swung around to face the speaker. The man behind the cult was dressed in red, wielded a cane, and had a mane of gray hair cascading to his chin.

“I had assumed Steven Grant was an alias. Imagine my surprise to find you here,” he remarked, a chilling smile playing on his lips, before his gaze shifted to Y/N.

“Yet, you weren't alone, were you? You must be Y/N L/N.” The man's knowledge of her identity sent shivers down Y/N's spine; she was undoubtedly a target now.

“I honestly thought you were undercover, but it turns out you're just a young girl caught in the crossfire,” he added, evoking a sense of foreboding.

Steven scanned the vicinity, spotting a security guard and waving him over. "Oi, Ronnie! This man's been following us,” he yelled. His words ceased when Ronnie rolled up his sleeve, revealing the same scale tattoo they had encountered.

Returning their attention to the man with the cane, they approached cautiously. “Mate, I don't have your scarab, so if you'd just –” Steven began, only to be cut off by the man's headshake.

“The scarab doesn't belong to me,” he said, placing a hand on his chest and pointing to a painting on a pillar. “Do you know Amit?” he asked.

Both Y/N and Steven exchanged puzzled glances before turning back to the man. “She's an Egyptian goddess, right?” She checked Steven for confirmation which he nodded.

“She was a bogeyman for evildoers,” the man's approach compelled them to step back. “But she grew tired of waiting for sinners to commit their crimes before punishing them,” he continued, drawing closer.

“That's great. I'll be sure to read up on her in my books,” Steven tried to muster a light tone, his smile feigned.

“Yeah, she sounds great. I’ll add her to my altar with the Virgin Mary,” Y/N's attempt at humor was intended to defuse the tension.

Approaching the corridor's end, the door abruptly slammed shut, jolting them. Their gazes darted around for an alternate route, but it became apparent they were trapped in a circle of cultists. Resigned, they stood still, compelled to listen to the man's voice.

He began describing how the world might have been altered if Ammit had been unleashed. How her power could have thwarted history's malevolent figures. “She was then betrayed, by her fellow gods. Even by her own avatar.”

“Avatar? You mean the blue people? Great film,” Steven tried to inject a touch of nonchalance. Y/N nodded and joined in.

“Oh, the animated kids' show? Fantastic series,” she added with a smile, masking her underlying fear.

“Stop it,” the man demanded sharply.

“Are you planning to kill us?” Y/N's voice quivered as she blurted out the question. The museum's lights began to flicker intensely, and it became evident that this was no mere electrical issue.

The man stepped closer to Steven and whispered something in his ear. Y/N strained to hear, catching only the word "voices."

The man stepped back, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the same scale tattoo that Y/N had noticed since arriving in the UK. He then grasped Steven's wrists, using them as a balance for his cane, and asked, "Do you want to know the truth?"

The cane began to sway back and forth, a bizarre act in itself. Y/N's gaze was drawn to the tattoo, her eyes widening as she saw the scale tilting at a steady pace, as if influenced by some invisible force. The sight left her both mesmerized and unnerved.

“There’s chaos in you,” the man's gaze shifted to Steven, his own surprise evident.

“Alright, that's enough of that,” Y/N intervened, pulling Steven away. Her sudden action disrupted the delicate balance, nearly causing the cane to drop to the floor before the man managed to steady it.

He turned his attention to Y/N, his focus unsettling. "And how about you? May I see your wrists?"

As if their plea had been answered, the door they had tried to enter earlier swung open again. Casting a quick glance at their escape route, then back at the man, they seized the opportunity and hurriedly fled to the stock room.

—

After locking the door, they took a few moments to regain their composure, attempting to slow their racing hearts and quiet their racing thoughts.

“Who was that guy? How did he know my name?” Y/N's grip on her chest tightened as she felt her heart thump wildly, her legs almost giving way beneath her.

“Actually, I have seen him before, ” Steven's forehead creased in deep thought, his gaze fixed on the floor. Y/N watched, waiting for him to piece together his thoughts. With a deep breath, he began to explain.

“I thought it was a dream at first, but obviously it wasn't. It happened after I went to bed on Friday,” he began.

“I woke up in a different place, different country, I think. I had a golden scarab in my pocket and suddenly men started shooting at me. I didn't understand why at first, so I ran to a nearby town. There, I saw a crowd gathered in the center, all staring at a man with a cane,” he recounted.

Y/N immediately recognized that description, realizing it was the same man they had just encountered.

“He performed the same trick on me as he did now, but the scales turned green, and he claimed the man was pure and innocent. Then, an elderly woman stepped up, and the scales turned red. She died,” Steven's voice trembled slightly.

“She insisted she had led a good life, but the man with the cane insisted that she would do something terrible in the future. After that, they noticed me and found out about the scarab. It led to a fight, gunfire, a car chase...” Steven's hands raked through his hair in frustration. “I'm sorry. If I had just given them the scarab, maybe things would have been different. Now they're after both of us.”

He rambled on, his anxiety palpable. Y/N stepped in, “Hey, hey, it’s not your fault. Really, they have been around since I’ve came, so I doubt you have been causing any trouble since then,”

Her words seemed to catch his attention, and she went on to tell him about the cashier from the noodle shop, the one he had introduced her to. It suddenly made sense to him why she had always been avoiding that place. Then she recounted the man she saw on Friday, the one who had been asking about Steven.

“Later, I found out they were part of a cult, and now we've just met their leader,” she finished.

Steven nodded, confirming, “We did.”

Y/N's next question hung in the air like a heavy cloud, “What do we do now?”

Steven took a moment to think before responding, “We'll continue our shift. And afterward, we'll go to the police.”

“But what if they're involved too? You saw Ronnie,” Y/N pointed out, nervously picking at the skin around her nails.

“If that's the case… I honestly don't know,” Steven admitted, his fingers massaging his temples. “We'll figure it out later. For now, let's focus on finishing our shift.”

——

At the end of their shift, fatigue had settled in as Y/N and Steven finished scanning the new pieces of merchandise Donna had assigned them. Their overnight shift had left them alone in the museum, save for a few janitors quietly going about their business. As the lights flickered off, signaling the museum's closure, they knew it was time to leave.

With their bags slung over their shoulders, they began their walk toward the exit. Y/N broke the silence, her voice laced with uncertainty, "So, I guess the police station is still an option?"

Steven pondered for a moment before replying, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

"That's true, and I have my trusty metal pole," Y/N half-joked, though her nerves were palpable.

"Exactly, you'll keep us well protected," Steven teased, nudging her playfully.

A noise suddenly echoed from behind them, causing both of them to halt in their tracks. They turned, peering into the dark recesses of the museum, the only sources of light being the softly illuminated displays.

"Did you hear that? It sounded like a dog," Y/N whispered, her voice tense. Steven nodded in agreement.

"Probably just someone's pet left behind," Steven reasoned, starting to walk toward the sound.

Y/N grabbed his hand, pulling him back with a hushed urgency. “Don’t you think that’s weird? The cult already knows where we work, and the janitors or security guards would have reported a stray dog. Actually, come to think of it, they might be part of this too," she whispered rapidly, her paranoia evident.

Steven, however, wore a reassuring smile. “You’re being silly. It's likely nothing. I'll check it out real quick." He resumed his path, whistling and clapping his hands in a feeble attempt to coax the dog out.

Standing back, Y/N's eyes darted around the darkness, her apprehension deepening. “This is the shit that gets people killed in horror movies man” she muttered under her breath to Steven.

He chuckled softly. "Oh, come on. You know those are just works of fiction."

Continuing on they went through a few displays. Looking around with only the lights of the displays illuminating their way, Y/N looked to her left to where both the reflection of hers and Stevens was at. Staring at them, she could see that she looked quite messed up.

As Steven continued walking, she thought she saw his reflection just stand there and turn to look at her. Freaking out already, she ran up to catch up to Steven.

“Alright Steven, I'm starting to lose it here, let’s just get out of here,” Y/N pleaded.

Steven turned to her and attempted to reassure her, his voice strained but steady, “You're just still rattled from earlier. Everything's fine.” He maintained his smile, continuing to whistle in an effort to mask his own fear.

Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly trailed behind him. Truthfully, Steven's bravado was just as much for his own benefit as it was for hers. He felt the knot of anxiety gnawing at his stomach, but he couldn’t afford to show it. Not now.

A low growl reverberated from the corner of the room. Both froze, the sound sending chills down their spines. Anticipating a dog’s approach, they instead caught sight of an ominous shadow – a tall, emaciated silhouette that resembled a werewolf.

Y/N’s grip on Steven's sleeve tightened, her knuckles turning white. Slowly retreating, they sought refuge behind a display, clutching their bags for reassurance. An unexpected voice echoed through the museum's speaker, sending a fresh jolt of panic through them.

“Steven and Y/N of the gift shop,” the voice crackled. Their exchanged glance spoke volumes: they were trapped, and the situation had escalated dangerously. “Return the scarab or be torn into pieces,” the voice threatened before abruptly cutting off, leaving them alone with the looming threat.

Y/N turned her gaze to Steven, her lips curling into a bitter smile as she muttered, "I told you so." But her expression turned fierce as she whispered, "We should've just left, dog and all."

“I deeply apologize a million times, but I don’t think right now is a good time for who was right or wrong” Steven quickly whispered back.

Nodding, Y/N peeked out to assess the creature's position. It was a mummified creature with the eyes of a dog, its eerie glow piercing through the darkness. Its growls intensified as it approached, sending shivers down their spines.

Steven glanced at their belongings and motioned towards the open space. Realizing his plan, Y/N hesitated briefly before nodding. They flung their bags with all their might into the center of the room, diverting the creature’s attention. Y/N’s ten-dollar tote bag became the beast’s prey as it lunged at their abandoned belongings.

Seizing the opportunity, Y/N and Steven sprang to their feet and tiptoed away, their eyes never leaving the creature. But their escape wasn’t entirely noiseless – Steven accidentally bumped into a display, teetering a vase precariously. He shot Y/N an apologetic smile before the roar of the creature forced them to break into a sprint.

As they dashed away, their screams mingling with the creature's guttural growls, they finally saw a door ahead. Racing through it, Steven’s voice urged them onward, “Go! Go! Go!”

“What do you think im doing?!” Y/N shot back.

The grunts and growls only fed their terror. Y/N led the way, frantically checking for an unlocked door. Finally, she found one and threw it open, screaming to Steven, “Come on!”

They plunged into the room, slamming the door shut and pressing their combined weight against it. In the respite of that moment, the creature’s frenzied attempts to break in filled the air, its strength reverberating against the door.

“What the hell is that?!”

“I think it's a jackal,” Steven panted.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, “You mean those creatures from the pyramid era?”

Steven nodded in agreement, not about to correct her on the historical inaccuracy. Edging away from the door, they scanned the room desperately for an escape route or a makeshift weapon. But how could they possibly combat something so monstrous?

“Shit, shit, shit, shit. We’re screwed,” Y/N's voice trembled as she clutched her head. “I won’t graduate, I won’t even go on a date, neither will you,” she babbled in panic.

“We’ll be alright, we just have to,” Steven trailed and tried looking around.

Despite their attempts, deep breaths were nearly impossible. The relentless banging and scratching from the jackal at the door reverberated through the room, their impending doom closing in.

Y/N watched Steven, noting his focused expression as he muttered to himself. Perhaps it was the adrenaline playing tricks on his mind. There was no time for that now.

“Oye, Steven? I know this shit is getting too much, but I can’t handle losing you this fast,” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of his face.

His gaze snapped to her, then to the mirrors. “Control? What control?” he muttered, his focus shifting between the door, the mirrors, Y/N, and back to the mirrors.

“Steven, please, I'm already terrified,” she stepped back as he continued talking to himself. The door was showing signs of giving in, dents multiplying.

“Y/N,” he addressed her, his voice strangely calm, “I need you to go under the sinks.” She complied without question, making space for him. Yet, he remained standing.

“Steven?”

He looked down at her, “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe”.

Panicking, she reached out to him, “No, no! Steven!”

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the air, the same voice she had heard from him that morning. Steven’s gaze lifted, his arms stretched outwards. Lights flickered, hieroglyphs illuminated the walls, and a wind began to stir.

Facing Steven again, she saw cloth started wrapping around his body.

The door burst open, and the jackal lunged at him. Y/N screamed, shielding her eyes. She couldn’t bear to witness what was happening. Steven was gone, and she was next.

But the cries of pain didn’t come from him. Instead, they were from the jackal. Trembling, she peeked out and saw a white figure struggling with the creature. Her voice caught in her throat.

She watched as a figure in white boots fought the jackal mercilessly, her eyes fixed on the gruesome scene. The hooded figure, its cape trailing behind, turned towards her, its eyes glowing.

“You can come out now,” it spoke, its tone eerily calm.

Y/N hesitated, then crawled out from under the sinks. Keeping her gaze fixed on the hooded figure, she stood up, dusting herself off, her eyes a mix of disbelief and confusion.

“Steven?” She croaked out his name, her voice shaking.

He shook his head, looking at her. “I guess you're going to find out anyway,” he said, his voice carrying an air of gravity. With a gesture reminiscent of Steven's transformation, he unwrapped the cloth around his body.

The figure before her appeared to be Steven, yet not quite. The same demeanor he displayed that morning was there - the erect posture, the firm jaw, the intense eyes. As she sized him up, he seemed to scoff at her bewildered expression.

“You’re not Steven, but you are, but also you’re not?” Her voice quivered with confusion.

Rolling his eyes, he took a step closer, his gaze locked onto hers. “That’s because I'm not him.”

She tilted her head, her brows furrowing as she studied him, searching for answers that were yet to be revealed.

“Call me Marc.”

Chapter Text

Marc could nearly see the wheels spinning in her brain as she attempted to make sense of the perplexing scenario. Who wouldn’t be? In barely a month, Y/N had gone from knowing her neighbor Steven to realizing he wasn't who he claimed to be.

They stood in the midst of the restroom's turmoil with the flickering lights and the continuous flow of water from busted pipes. Their gazes were fixed, transfixed by the weight of the discovery. Y/N was the first to break the stillness.

"Are you a superhero?" she said, leaning her head slightly to one side.

He wrinkled his brow and shook his head slightly. "Not at all," he said, stepping passed her to scan the corridor for any other dangers. He was satisfied and motioned for her to follow him outside.

She stopped, doubtful if she could trust him. After all, he was vastly different from the man she knew earlier. The faint call of "come on" from the hallway prompted her to act. He went cautiously, maintaining a defensive stance, while Y/N trod gently behind him.

"Why did you fake a British accent? Are you running from someone?" Her remarks came out in whispered tones, her nervousness heightened by the idea that the cane-wielding guy and his followers were still lurking.

Marc stayed motionless as his footsteps echoed through the deserted corridors. The metal racks were thrown about, with the goods on them screwed across the floor. The walls were damaged with deep gouges, serving as reminders of the previous creature's rampage.

“Are you?” she prodded again, her patience wearing thin.

Once again, he responded with silence, much to Y/N's dismay. She rushed forward and grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to stop.

He turned to her with an irritated look in his eyes. "There's no time for explanations."

Exiting the corridor, they entered the expansive museum space. Everything appeared normal—no shattered displays or artifacts in sight. Marc scanned the area before resuming his pace.

Exasperated by his continuous evasiveness, Y/N tugged at his sleeve once more. He met her gaze with a scowl, but she held her ground with determination.

“I know I'm being annoying, but I just found out there’s a cult following me and my supposedly neighbor.”

Marc regarded her intently, his earlier sternness giving way slightly. Although she tried keeping a strong front, he noticed how her hands trembled. She was afraid, and he couldn’t blame her. The one friend she made might have turned out to be fake this whole time. He relaxed his face slightly and sighed.

“Steven is real, alright? He's just a…” he trailed off, searching for the right words, “a different personality, and he doesn’t know it. That's why you can't tell him.”

The news wasn’t too startling; it was actually relieving to hear Steven was real. Still, it was a weird feeling. Has Marc always been there?

She didn’t question him about the reason why, most likely to keep doing his business as that white-capped figure. Yet, she didn’t need to tell Steven. He was smart enough to figure it on his own and knew he would find out sooner than Marc thought. "Okay."

They stepped out into the expansive room, their belongings strewn across the floor where they had tossed them earlier. The openness left them feeling exposed, knowing that the cult leader might be watching, and another wolf-like creature could be lurking nearby. But Marc didn’t show any sign that they were in danger.

Y/N gathered what remained of her and Steven’s bags, both now torn to shreds, leaving only their wallets unscathed. She cradled the ruined bags before heading to a nearby bin, discarding the tattered remnants.

“What about the man?” She turned her gaze to Marc, who was already making his way toward the museum’s exit.

“His name is Arthur Harrow,” Marc replied, his focus unwavering as he strode forward. “He’s trying to bring back Ammit to continue her work.”

Y/N nodded. “Ammit, the one who’s killing everyone, right?”

A simple nod from Marc confirmed her understanding. Once again, silence enveloped them as Y/N was able to piece together what was happening at that moment. The cult were coming after Marc, but with Steven involved, she found herself caught in whatever war was happening.

Exiting the museum posed no immediate danger, and they were greeted by the chilly night air. The streets were sparsely populated with cars, which would make sense since it was late. Scanning their surroundings for any potential ambush, they found the area relatively deserted, save for a few waiting for a bus.

Approaching the bus stop, they idled a few feet away from the other passengers.The awkward silence between them felt palpable. Marc stayed focus occasionally looking side to side, but never glancing at Y/N.

The bus would arrive in about ten minutes, a relatively short wait, but the tension between Y/N and Marc made it feel longer than it actually was. Succumbing to her impatience, Y/N finally broke the silence.

“So, how did you get those powers?” Her question held a touch of annoyance, and she purposely kept her gaze averted, mimicking him.

“Not a topic open for discussion,” Marc’s response was curt, shutting down her question.

Y/N’s shoulders slumped, and she couldn’t help but groan in exasperation. “You’re so boring,”

“I’m not meant to be entertaining," was Marc’s stoic retort, effectively ending their interaction.

Fortunately, the bus arrived soon after, diffusing the uncomfortable atmosphere between them. A line formed as everyone tried to go on board. Y/N followed behind but noticed Marc wasn’t joining her. Glancing back, she realized he had remained at the same distance as before.

“You’re not getting on?”

He shook his head, “Got other stuff to do, you’ll be safe for now. Don’t tell Steven anything about me.” His last sentence carried a harsh edge.

Y/N nodded before hopping into the bus. She boarded the bus and secured a window seat. As the bus pulled away, she looked back to see Marc, only to find him gone. Yet, in that same moment, she caught a glimpse of a white figure leaping onto a nearby building, vanishing into the night.

The London morning unfolded gently; Steven was back, and they both avoided the events from last night. Nonetheless, an air of unease hung around Steven, which was hardly surprising. They now found themselves on the bus, with Steven deeply absorbed in thought.

"It's strange," he mused aloud, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his chin as he gazed down at the floor, lost in contemplation. "I feel like something happened last night, yet it feels like a dream. What did we do yesterday?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the question coming so early in the day. She considered the words Marc had given her, urging her to keep his identity under wraps. And she certainly didn't want to test whether his warnings were true.

Turning her attention to Steven, whose eyes seemed lost in memory, she couldn't help but picture Marc lurking in the depths of his gaze, waiting for her to falter.

Then again, Marc had never told her to keep the events, only to avoid mentioning him.

"Well," she began thoughtfully, choosing her words with caution, "I remember Donna being angry with us for showing up late, and we had our overnight shift. We met some weird dude, and we had an overnight shift. Then there was a dog or something in the museum, but that’s about all I remember.”

She conveniently kept out the part about the "dog" turning out to be a wolf-like creature sent by, who is now known as, Arthur Harrow. She also refrained from mentioning all the chaos and danger that happened. It wasn’t the time and place for Steven to have a panic attack on the bus.

Steven nodded in response to her account, appearing to accept it. "I guess it must have been a dream I had."

“You had a weird dream?” She inquired, trying to keep up the image she didn’t know a thing.

He nodded, summarizing the events from last night, which Y/N only brushed off as a fever dream. It was safer this way, allowing Steven to believe it was not real.

They reached the museum's entrance, climbing the stairs and stepping inside. Immediately, their attention was drawn to an area cordoned off with yellow and black tape. JB, in the midst of sealing off the last section, noticed their entrance.

"Hey there," he called out, lifting his hand to halt their approach. "You two aren't getting any closer."

"Something went down here?" Steven inquired.

JB shrugged, glancing back at the taped-off zone. "Yeah, looks like a pipe burst last night, turned the toilets into a mess."

Y/N bit her lip, knowing the truth was steadily unveiling itself, just as she had expected. She felt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Steven would eventually find her lie, which would then force her to confess why she had done it — revealing Marc.

“Are you going to look at the footage?” Steven turned to JB, who nodded. Y/N had nearly forgotten about the museum's security cameras. A growing unease clenched at her chest as they followed JB to the room where he usually worked.

Inside, an array of screens covered the walls, each displaying different angles of the museum. They stood behind JB as he searched for last night's footage.

Y/N hugged herself, swaying slightly, torn between the wanting the truth out and the longing to keep the facade. She yearned to continue living a simple life, where her only concern was her job and her cozy flat, free from cults and vigilante of a neighbor.

JB's question cut through her thoughts. “Both of you were there?”

Their eyes widened. Y/N glanced at Steven, her shrug serving as her only response. Perhaps she would stick with faking shock, playing it off like she didn’t even know any of this took place.

The footage began playing, showing them crouched behind a display. Y/N anticipated the appearance of the wolf-like creature after they tossed their bags, yet the screen never showed the creature’s presence.

"Switch to a different angle," Steven directed JB. The video continued, revealing their hasty escape, the chase that led to the demolished restrooms.

Steven's gaze remained locked on the screen as the realization hit him. JB turned to them, disbelief etched on his face. "No way! You two wrecked the restrooms! Larry from maintenance is going to tear you both apart."

Y/N shot JB an annoyed glare. "Then don't tell him."

Steven shook his head, the truth dawning on him. "No, no, there was a jackal— skip to the end!"

With a resigned sigh, JB complied. The final clip revealed Y/N and "Steven" exiting the restrooms. In the vast expanse of the museum, Marc's eyes met the camera, a glare etched across his face. Y/N entered the frame, trailing behind him.

"It's still the two of you, mate," JB confirmed.

Steven's eyes remained fixed on the screen. He turned to Y/N, who met his gaze with an air of tension.

Standing outside the museum, Y/N exchanged a glance with Steven. "Sorry," she offered apologetically.

He shook his head. "No need to apologize. It wasn't your fault, blame that creature."

Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I kind of blacked out there. I still feel bad for getting you fired."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. It wasn't your doing. Maybe it's a sign to move on from that toxic job," he reassured her, his smile encouraging. This only tugged on Y/N’s heart; she has been lying to him and it was obvious, yet he continued to be cheerful towards her.

The bus rolled up to the stop, the queue of passengers waiting. Steven turned to Y/N once more. "Are you sure you can't remember anything?"

She shook her head, a lie forming on her lips. Guilt tugged at her, a mix of already getting Steven fired and now lying to him.

Steven's hand brushed his pocket, seeming to recall something. "I think I'll take a walk. You go ahead and catch the bus." With that, he started walking in the opposite direction from the bus stop, leaving Y/N behind before she could respond.

Back in her apartment, Y/N found herself dialing her sister's number. She told her about what happened; cutting out the part of the cult and jackal of course. Coming up with lie for why she got fired.

“Well, that’s their loss. You’ll find another one soon,” Her sister reassured her.

“Yeah, just please don’t our parents I can't deal with their 'I told you so' right now." Y/N almost begged.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Speaking of parents, I had another showdown with Mom," her sister said, a hint of frustration in her voice.

Y/N paused, “About what?”

Her sister hesitated. "You just focus on doing what you love, alright?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed. "Just tell me.”

"Mom was on one of her moods again, and she started interrogating me about whether I convinced you to leave home. I had to argue with her about letting you do what you love, but that only made her more furious. Dad chimed in with some stupid shit too."

"What did he say?" Y/N asked, already having an idea.

Her parents were known for undermining her and her siblings' ambitions, often making remarks like, "You won't succeed."

Her sister hesitated. "Nothing worth repeating. Just remember, don't let their negativity get to you, alright?"

Y/N hummed, having that as a confirmation. They exchanged goodbyes, and the call ended. She at the couch, her mind was filled so many unwanted feelings and thoughts. Now theres more thanks to her parents. She rubbed her face in frustration.

It was as if her being content was just too much for her so life needed to tone it down. Tone it way down.

Just then, a door slammed from Steven's place, an unusual occurrence for him. Y/N stood up from the couch, already forgetting about her parent’s judgement and walked over to the door.

As she approached, she hesitated. What could she say? Most likely an apology, she felt responsible for ruining his life. But thinking about it now, she realized it wasn't entirely her fault. Her guilt eased a bit.

The blame was on Marc. If only he had been more careful, they could have avoided this mess. This thought made her more motivated to tell him. She grabbed her jacket and rushed out the door.

He opened it, looking stressed. He was about to speak when Y/N interrupted, "I know you might be upset with me, but I need to talk to you."

Steven seemed taken aback. "I'm not mad. Why would you—"

Before he could finish, Y/N slipped into his apartment. "Okay, so remember your blackout? It wasn't just a sleep thing. It was actually—"

She halted when she noticed a woman behind her. The woman had brown curly hair, a navy blue and brown jacket, jeans, and boots. Y/N gave her a friendly wave. The woman reciprocated before Y/N turned back to Steven, realizing she had barged in at a bad time.

Y/N cringed, "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?"

Steven introduced her to Layla, his wife, though Layla added, "For the time being."

Y/N's eyes widened. She held her questions, assuming it might involve Marc instead of Steven. Regardless, she didn't want to create more trouble.

Y/N nodded, "I'm Y/N, his neighbor across the hall." Layla smiled warmly. Feeling like an intruder, Y/N gestured to the door, "I'll leave you two alone."

Steven interrupted, holding up a finger, "Actually, I have something to show you both."

Curious glances were exchanged between Layla and Y/N as they focused on Steven rummaging through a bag. "There's so much interesting stuff here," he said, about to reveal something before stumbling, changing his mind.

"Steven, what's in the bag? Where did you get it?" Y/N inquired, moving closer.

Steven began to explain, mentioning a storage room accessed with a key he found in his pocket, "Under the name—"

"Marc Spector?" Y/N interjected.

Steven paused, surprised. "How do you know that?"

"That's why I'm here. You've been blacking out because of—"

"The scarab that points to Ammit's ushabti? The one we fought for?" Layla interrupted, holding a golden scarab.

"I didn't even know what it was. All I know is that a man's after it," Steven explained, but Layla was too angry to listen.

"He's telling the truth," Y/N interjected. Their attention turned to her for an explanation.

"He's Marc, too. He has two personalities: himself and Steven," Y/N revealed. She glanced at Steven, who appeared shocked.

"I met Marc last night when we were attacked by that jackal. He saved us but got us fired," she tried to lighten the mood. Sensing the tension, she continued, "He told me not to tell you, but you would've found out anyway."

It was a message directed at Marc, who was likely listening. The threat Marc gave seemed empty, considering Steven was still present. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to see Layla, his wife.

"I was going to tell you, just didn't know how," Y/N turned to Steven, who waved it off, saying, "It's alright."

Layla stood with her hands on her hips, processing the shocking revelation. It was understandable given she had just learned her husband had another life in London that wasn't really his.

"Okay, if this is all true, then what exactly is going on?" Layla inquired, looking between Y/N and Steven.

Y/N turned to Layla and explained, "I don't have the complete story, especially with Marc being stone, but I think you're the only one who can help us. There's a cult after both Steven and me, led by—"

"Arthur Harrow, yeah, I'm familiar with him and his group. Marc and I have been dealing with them for a while," Layla said, casting a glance at Steven.

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, "Good, so you know why—”

"Steven Grant? Can we have a word?" a voice interrupted from outside the door, accompanied by a knock. All three exchanged worried glances, with Steven looking the most panicked.

"They've found us," Steven uttered.

Layla looked at Steven in confusion, prompting him to explain that it was related to the restroom incident from yesterday.

"I doubt they'd send the police," Y/N reasoned. The knocking grew more insistent, and Steven gave the two women a desperate look before attempting to unlock the door.

Y/N scanned the room for a hiding spot, her gut telling her that it wasn’t the police that was outside the door. Slowly retreating further into Steven's apartment, Layla whispered to the teenager, "Over here."

Y/N followed Layla, who opened a window and climbed out. As Y/N tried to do the same, her foot slipped, and she let out a small scream. Layla managed to catch her arm just in time, preventing a potentially deadly fall.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Y/N joined Layla behind the overhang. They stayed silent, straining to eavesdrop on the conversation inside.

Not much was audible, except for discussions about a stolen item, which Steven denied any knowledge of. Y/N whispered to Layla, "Could it be the scarab?"

Layla nodded, "Most likely."

More muffled conversation followed, but it was too indistinct to decipher. That changed when Y/N's name was mentioned. "Any chance you know where your 'cousin' is? She wasn't home when we checked. She lives across from your place, right?" one of the officers inquired of Steven.

He shook his head, puzzled, "Why would you need Y/N?"

"She was involved in the museum incident, and there are a few other matters she needs to be questioned about. For now, we'll take you to the office," one of the officers stated, taking out handcuffs to detain Steven. The sound of a door closing was the last thing the two women heard before silence took over the apartment.

Layla was the first to descend and verify that they had indeed left. Once she confirmed it, she signaled for Y/N to come down. Alone in the apartment, the two women contemplated their next move.

“What are we going to do?” Y/N asked.

Layla paused for a moment, retrieving the golden scarab from her pocket. "We're getting him back," she declared.

"We?" Y/N felt a surge of fear at the idea. She was still learning to pay bills and be self-sufficient, not how to rescue a friend from the clutches of a cult.

Layla noticed Y/N's apprehension and couldn't help but smirk. "You can stay back if you want, but remember what you heard back there. They're looking for you too."

That sobering reminder dispelled any doubt. Y/N realized she might end up in the same predicament regardless, so she might as well try to help Steven.

"Okay, I'll go too. Just know that I don't know how to fight," Y/N admitted. Layla chuckled softly and gestured toward the door.

The sun had already set as Y/N clung to Layla's waist, determined not to fall off the motorcycle. Even with a helmet securely in place, she had no intention of letting go. They used the tracker Layla had on Steven's phone, a detail Y/N didn't question, and found themselves about fifteen minutes away from his current location, which showed no sign of stopping.

"Sorry if I'm intruding, but Marc," Y/N began, "he never told you about his split personalities to you?"

Layla shook her head. "He was always the secretive type. I just thought..." She let the sentence hang, choosing to change the subject. "Are you a student here?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I guess it's the accent, huh?”

Layla replied with a soft hum, steering the conversation toward topics like London and her previous visits to America. In reality, she was trying to keep Y/N's mind occupied, knowing full well that the girl must be terrified after all the events of the past day.

The red dot on Layla's phone suddenly stopped, snapping her out of her thoughts. "They've stopped at a building, probably their hideout," Layla observed, feeling Y/N squeeze her even tighter. She offered words of comfort in response.

They arrived at a large, old, and seemingly abandoned brick building. Dim yellow light spilled from the windows, casting an eerie glow on the vegetable garden outside. Surprisingly, cult members were lounging around, playing soccer or reading, a far cry from what Y/N had imagined.

"I expected them to be in robes," Y/N whispered to Layla, who nodded in agreement. Leaving the motorcycle behind, they silently approached the building and ducked under a window. Faint voices could be heard, so they peeked inside.

No one noticed them, as everyone's attention was fixed on someone else – Steven Grant. He looked tense, scanning the building for an escape route. Harrow, the cult leader, stood before him, engaged in a heated conversation about obtaining the scarab. However, there was a problem.

"Didn't you have the scarab?" Y/N asked, puzzled. Layla nodded, producing the golden artifact from her pocket. Her eyes widened as she glanced back at Steven, who was edging away from Harrow.

Layla stood up and tapped Y/N's shoulder, saying, "I have an idea." Before Y/N could inquire, Layla began walking toward the hideout's entrance.

"Where's the scarab?" Harrow demanded loudly, losing patience. Steven, trembling under the pressure, shouted back, "I have no idea!"

"We have it!" Layla declared, holding the scarab high. Y/N stood beside her, feeling the weight of numerous eyes on her, her nervousness palpable. Steven stared in disbelief, mouth slightly agape.

"You couldn't possibly comprehend the power you're holding," Harrow extended his hand, gesturing for Layla to surrender it.

Ignoring him, Layla and Y/N walked over to Steven, who seemed bewildered. Y/N inquired, "Are you okay?" Steven shook his head.

"Good, summon the suit," Layla instructed, but Steven blinked in confusion and glanced around. "The what?"

"He doesn't know about the suit; that was Marc," Y/N explained to Layla, who cursed softly. She swiftly handed the scarab to Steven, then grabbed both of their arms, saying, "We need to run."

The three of them raced away, ascending a flight of stairs. One cultist blocked their path at the top, but Layla managed to push them over the railing. Steven and Y/N watched in awe before Layla urged them on with a "Come on."

They continued their ascent, their legs aching from the effort. Just before reaching the top, Y/N felt her right bicep being tugged. Glancing back, she saw a large man gripping her. He wasted no time, pulling her back and shoving her to the ground, her scream echoing.

Layla and Steven tried to rush to her aide but another man cut them away from getting to her. Leaving Y/N and the big cultist alone. Layla and Steven attempted to come to her aid, but another cultist blocked their path. Y/N was left alone with the large cultist, looking up at him with fear and trembling arms. He raised his fist, ready to strike.

Suddenly, one of her arms extended toward him, wrapped in dark, living goo. She watched in astonishment as the goo formed a tentacle-like limb, wrapping around the man's neck. Her arm picked him off the ground, and then hurled him across the room. He collided with the brick wall, creating a crater.

The cultists were taken aback, their attention now fixed on her. She was just as stunned as they were. The black goo retracted into her skin, leaving her with her normal arm. Layla and Steven stared at her, the defeated man no longer a concern.

"How did you do that?" Steven asked.

She shrugged, stammering, "I... I don't know."

Cracking sounds came from Harrow's direction. The trio turned to see him, muttering something as he slammed his cane into the ground. The floor cracked open, emitting a purple light. A deafening roar echoed from the crevice, and a pair of claws emerged, followed by two jackals.

Layla yelled at the others to run. They sprinted up the stairs, encountering a few cultists along the way, their adrenaline pumping. The three burst into a room, and Layla slammed the doors shut, barricading them with a piece of wood. The doors thudded as the two creatures attempted to break through, reminiscent of the museum incident.

Steven frantically scanned the room for an escape, but all he found was a window, high above the ground. Panic welled up inside him.

"We're trapped in an evil magician's cave," he muttered, running his hands through his hair, which only escalated Y/N's anxiety.

"Shut up or I'll lose it," she snapped. Steven quickly apologized, assuring her they'd make it out. Layla turned to him, gripping his shoulders, and mentioned the suit Marc had used in the museum. But Steven shook his head, glancing nervously at a nearby mirror.

"Or you could let Marc take control," Y/N suggested as the doors started to crack under the pressure.

"No, no, no! I can't," Steven panicked.

Seeing it was futile to argue further, Layla considered Y/N's earlier power. "Can you do that thing again?" she asked.

Y/N looked at her hands, then back at Layla. "Maybe. I can try."

"If you're not sure, don't push it," Layla warned.

"Well, I'm gonna get hurt either way if I don't do something," Y/N replied with a determined smile.

Facing the doors on the verge of bursting open, Y/N controlled her breathing and whispered encouragement to herself, hoping to awaken her powers once more. Unfortunately, the doors flew open, revealing an empty hallway.

"Did they leave?" Y/N wondered, her confusion mirrored by Steven and Layla.

Suddenly, Steven shouted, "Watch out!"

A jackal leaped at Y/N, its fangs and claws poised for attack. She attempted to shield herself, but her mysterious power kicked in again. The black goo materialized, enveloping the creature and holding it above her. The jackal snapped and struggled, but it couldn't reach her.

Y/N quickly spotted the window. "Duck!" she yelled at Steven, who stood in its path. Her limb tossed the creature through the window.

The black goo retreated into her body, and she smiled proudly, knowing she had protected her friends. Steven cheered, "You did it!" while Layla sighed in relief.

However, Y/N's smile faded. "Weren't there two?"

Their eyes widened at a growl, and before they could react, a jackal slammed into Y/N, carrying Steven with her through the window. Layla, fortunately out of harm's way, peered out the window and witnessed the two plummeting from a considerable height.

Y/N cursed loudly, and the ground approached rapidly. Adrenaline surged through her, her heart pounding in her ears. She screamed, "Come out now!"

A cold sensation emanated from her back, and thick black tentacles sprouted from her body. They extended to the ground and pierced the concrete, slowing her descent.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Y/N took a quick inventory of her limbs, relieved to find no injuries. She let out a sigh of relief.

"That was amazing!" A voice rang out, and Y/N turned to see a man dressed all in white, with the same glowing white eyes as Marc. He sported a stylish white tuxedo that almost seemed to gleam under a nearby lamppost.

"Steven?" Y/N inquired.

"In the flesh," he replied, adjusting his blazer and tie. "Looks rather smashing, don't you think?"

"British people actually use the word 'smashing'?" Y/N laughed.

"Jesus, we look like Colonel Sanders," a different voice interrupted. Steven glared at his reflection in a glass door, while Y/N furrowed her brows and noticed that the reflection was responding to Steven.

"Fine, you'll see," Steven rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N, asking if he looked great in the suit. However, Y/N was gawking at the door's reflection.

"You alright?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her eyes to bring her back.

"Maybe I hit my head when I fell, but is your reflection talking?" Y/N questioned.

The reflection in question was Marc, and he seemed just as confused as to why Y/N could see and hear him. This was something that people outside of Steven's body definitely couldn't do, for obvious reasons.

"Marc?" Y/N confirmed.

Marc hesitated but nodded, “Yeah.”

She took a small silence, thinking of how odd this situation has become. Yet she couldn’t help give out a small chuckle, “Well, look at that. Can’t really do much to me in this form can you?”

That statement was met with a hard flick to her forehead. She rubbed her forehead and looked at Steven, questioning, "What the hell?"

"It wasn't me! It just moved on its own!" Steven protested, raising his hands defensively.

She tilted her head, realizing who was to blame, and glared at Marc in the reflection. "Really?"

"Bark and all bite," he said smugly. "Anyways, how you have those powers?"

She was about to answer him until she paused, "Oh, so you can ask questions, but I can't?" Y/N retorted, crossing her arms.

Marc groaned, "I answered a few. Now it's your turn."

"You never answered how you got the powers, though," she raised an eyebrow.

"I think there’s a better time for this. For now, let's just—" Steven's body was suddenly pounced upon by one of the jackals, and he was thrown through a wooden gate, with the creature in hot pursuit.

"There's another one," Y/N muttered, scanning the area and spotting a small crater on the ground where the second jackal had landed before. "Shit."

"This is actually funny, two idiots now have to fight a feral dog," Marc smirked. Y/N squinted at him and asked, "Shouldn't you go help him?"

"Maybe, but he wants to play the hero," Marc replied.

She rolled her eyes and decided, "I guess I'll go help him. Quickly, before the other one shows up."

Speaking too soon, the one she mentioned tackled her down to the floor from gods know where. It pinned her down, making chomping motions toward her face, its drool flying everywhere.

The same cold feeling from earlier returned, but this time, it covered both her legs. The black tar-like substance thickened and, seemingly of its own mind, kicked the jackal off her, sending it flying into a brick wall.

Y/N stood up, catching her breath, as the living goo retreated into her body. The jackal shook its head before its eyes locked onto Y/N. It didn’t hesitate to charge at her once again.

Before she panicked, her arms extended to the black subtance; instead of being the dull limb like always, in a fast motion it became a replica of a sword. Her arm shot towards the jackal and went through it’s chest; impaling it. The jackal let out a cry of pain as her arm pulled back, its body disappeared into dust.

“Took a while but you did it,” Marc commented, to which she forgot was there.

She let out a groan, “I’m not exactly in control, alright?”

Speaking of control, she remembered about Steven fighting the other jackal. Ignoring the other alter, she rushed over to aid him and Layla, who was being dangled upside down by a leg.

Y/N extended her arm toward the creature hoping the same black goo would impale it like the other, but nothing happened. She continued to shoot her arm outwards but the same outcome would be. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment, she looked around the floor for a weapon.

“That was kinda embarrassing,” Marc spoke up from the reflection of a nearby car window. Y/N only ignored him, spotting an empty bottle of wine on the floor.

She threw the bottle at the jackals head which only seemed to anger it even more. It dropped Layla, focusing its attention more on the older teen. The black limb appeared from her shoulder and didn’t give the jackal time to attack before it wrapped itself around it and threw it far.

Y/N ran up to Layla and asked her if she fine, which she was. She helped her to her feet, unfortunately heavy footsteps came near. Layla pulled Y/N behind her, creating a human shield.

The jackal stared them down, it’s fangs bearing as drool dripped from its jaw. Layla couldn’t see it, but Y/N could. She tried summoning whatever power she had but failed.

As a way to distract it, Steven called the jackal over. It’s attention now focused on him, it walked towards him, leaving Layla and Y/N alone. They took a breather, both their hearts pounding from the interaction.

Any sort of belief in her being able to fight the jackal was out the window, ironically, so there was not much to do but throw glass bottles at it and hope it gets a concussion. From the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed Marc just staring at Steven bickering with the creature.

“Shouldn’t you go help him?”

Marc thought but shook his, “He wanted to play hero, let him,”

“Who are you talking to?” Layla jumped in, she had been looking at Y/N for a moment and began to worry.

She hesitated, knowing it would sound insane but continued, “I, for some reason, can talk to Marc through window reflections.”

Layla’s eyes widened, she placed her hand on Y/N’s head and spoke softly, “Sweetie, I think that fall might have done something to you, I think we need to take you to the hospital after this,”

Y/N shook her head, “No, no, I’m not lying–”

The jackal flew into the air suddenly. The two turned to see what was the cause, seeing only Steven staring at his fist. He slowly looked up to the two girls and burst into glee.

“Layla! Y/N! Did you see that?”

Layla and Y/N only smiled for his joy, that was until the jackal did a roundabout and gave Steven a kick, making him fly yards away from the two.

Even though Steven was already quite tired, he didn’t quit out on fighting the creature. They continued to brawl and the two girls continued to watch. It was rather quick, having lead to Steven and the jackal being hit by a car.

The two girls waited to see the fight continue as the jackal began to get up, expecting Steven to do the same. Though, he remained on the floor unconscious. Both began to worry seeing as the creature moved its way to him.

“He’s not waking up,” Layla pointed out.

Y/N focused her sight on Steven then to the jackal. Her head felt like it was pounding from thinking of what she could; the only option being to distract the monster as long as she could.

Running from Layla and to the scene, she could hear Layla yelling out for her. Ignoring her calls, she began to whistle at the jackal, catching its attention.

“Hey, mira por aca!” she yelled out, the jackal responding with a gruff roar and slowly creeping to her.

She let out a tense breath once she saw a good distance between the two, he plan working. But it was now surviving that she had to worry about.

Thinking of punching the jackal into the moon, she extended her arm expecting a black tentacle to come out. To no avail, she was left defenseless. She continued the same move, but nothing. Her stress was beginning to rise back up.

The jackal did not give a moment to let her think when it ran on its fours and lunged at her. Her skin ran cold with only her heart beating in her ears. Falling onto the floor, she covered her face but once again nothing came.

She peeked through the gaps of her arms; waiting to see the sight of black limbs wrapped around the creature. Instead she saw the familiar grey cloaked figure holding onto the legs of the jackal.

With the change of suit, she was sure it was Marc leading.

He pulled the creature away from her before throwing it against the wall of a nearby building. With his back turned to the teen, he turned to her.

“Stay with Layla,” he pointed at her, before he ran up a building to lead the jackal away.

Y/N stayed on the floor, her chest rising up and down as she catched her breath. Behind, she heard Layla’s voice calling to her and helping her to her feet.

Layla turned Y/N’s body towards her and scanned her face, “God, are you alright Y/N?”

She nodded, “Barely,”

Layla gave a wonky smile, “Well it is expected when one decides to become bait,”

She offered a small chuckle before she remembered about Steven and Marc. “Crap, I should go find them,” She tried to run off but Layla grabbed onto her wrist.

“Hey, I think you had enough for one night, go home,”

“I’m fine, I just gotta check on them.”

-

Marc stood infront of a statue that had mirrors as one of its many features. He wasn’t taking in the art but rather was in a dispute with his reflection; it being Steven.

“Look I swear to you, once I repaid my debt, you will no longer hear or see from me again”

He had hoped that it would be easy to come across his alter that he could go back to trying to fix the problem he had started. Unfortunately he ended up arguing. There were already many thoughts running across his mind that this was all just the cherry on a disgusting pie.

Steven spoke with a strong tone, in effort to get his life back. To be back to dealing with the main problem being employment instead of a mad cultist.

“Yeah, well, that blood is on my hands. You ruin peoples lives. Everything you touch, you ruin. You abandoned your wife. Left her stranded!” Steven yelled within the mirror.

“I did not! I am protecting her. You don’t know what your talking about,”

There was no stopping, with Marc dragging his fingers across his scalp, he felt himself turning to stone from the how much tension his body was going through.

“Then there’s Y/N! You didn’t think about her at all and now she’s in this mess!” Steven finally yelled out, seeming to break the current of the argument.

Marc turned immediately to Steven, pointing his finger at him, “You brought her here yourself, you got yourself into trouble and of course she followed,”

“Trouble that you started.” Steven clarified.

Marc shook his head, his jaw clenched, “You don’t know what were dealing with,”

“Right, is killing people how you deal with it?”

“Layla and Y/N will be safe,” he reassured him, but it was pointless.

As if it was a push for Marc, the bell from the nearby church began ringing. It was a far toll yet it felt like it was the statue itself ringing. The noise started melting with Steven’s voice, overwhelming Marc.

“Just shut up,”

Steven didn’t though, he continued. The bell was louder, how?

“Steven, shut up!”

Each hit from the bell banged in his head. It was a large thumping feeling; perhaps it was his brain or Steven had found a way to give him a migraine. It didn’t matter.

His hands twitched and soon his entire body flexed. Like some sort of natural response, he raised his foot and forced down onto the mirror of the statue. Repeating the action, over and over again. Each blunt to the reflected glass was met with a loud ‘Shut up’.

The bell, Steven’s voice, and now the sound of glass meeting the floor engulfed him.

“Marc,”

His actions stopped and he looked over to the figure of the teen standing idly to the side. She was confused with the situation; especially not knowing what to do with the information she just overheard.

Breathing out, he turned from her. “Go home,”

“Not really possible since it’s thousand of miles away,” she let out nervous laugh, hoping he would see the humor, which he didn’t.

“Go home,” he said more heavily towards her.

She stayed quiet, seeming as if the harsh tone worked until she said a simple, “No,”

Eyeing her up and down, he scoffed “I don’t have time to deal with you,”. He strode passed her, however she sprinted to his line of view.

"I didn't have time to deal with all of this, but here I am. I could have stayed in my apartment and pretended Steven had never been taken away, but I didn't. I could have told the world that you are a vigilante, but I did not. And I have plenty of reasons to do so because I am afraid of who that man is and what he is trying to accomplish. But I did not. So don't tell me to go home and pretend the past several days didn't happen.”

It was only them two now, all passerby’s had left home, something that neither of them could do. Even if they could, it would be easy bait for Harrow to come after. That man’s name ringed in Marc’s mind like the bell from earlier, a bell sounding the seconds counting down.

“I’ll call Layla, ask her if you can stay with her until all of this blows over,”

There was something that felt hypocritical to Marc, something awkward that he would face when making that call to her.

“And when will it blow over?”

Marc stayed quiet, which was as clear to Y/N that hoping for things to be alright wasn’t enough.

“Let me come with you,” she said with a firmness in her voice, outlined with a hesitant tremble.

He immediately turned down her idea, for many obvious reasons. Each reason resulting with Marc being responsible for what could happen to her.

"Harrow seems to be familiar with you, and also with me and the place where I live. If he really meant to knock you off course, he would go for either me or Layla to stop you; though I doubt he'd be able to get to her."

It was true; Harrow is aware of her and has seen her develop close to Steven. If something happened to her, Steven would not hesitate to take control of her body.

“I could be taken hostage to lure you back,”

“And you’re any safer with me?” it was more of a sarcastic statement from Marc’s part.

“Safer than being alone here, I can’t control,” she glanced to her sleeved arm, “whatever this is,”

“Then go back home, you would be safer there,” Marc stepped to the side and walked around her.

A force yanked him back by his collar, causing him to stumble. All of her patience had left her body.

“You don’t get it! Harrow is psychotic, you think a plane ride would be the one thing to keep him away? If I go to my family I wouldn’t be the only one in danger,”

His expression doesn’t show it, but she was right, Harrow is fucking insane, that’s how he rose to that position. There was no denying of the only choice he had.

“I don’t want to die being the reason my family are killed, because you fucking messed up.”

It was as if the wind had stopped for a time, and there was no concern about Harrow else than her. He gave a tight breath and nodded.