Steven's POV: Dropping By

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Marc Spector & Steven Grant & Reader

Summary: Marc's trying to do something nice for someone he likes, but Steven comes out instead.

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Sand slipped out from the gaps between his fingers. Watching it fall back into the desert seas. He didn't know how long he'd been there, but it started to feel like home among the ruins. He knew now this was where Marc almost died. Where Khonshu took advantage of him. How funny that it seemed to have become Steven's serenity. How he kept returning to this specific place. He didn't want to be anywhere else. He wouldn't look at the lines in the sand of where a body had dragged itself up the steps. Or the stains of blood. Or the bodies outside. Inside there. For the smallest of moments. He felt safe.

Then his mom walked in. Wasn't the first time she'd shown up somewhere in his headspace. He used to greet the arrival wholeheartedly. The illusion of all those good memories had crumbled away long ago. He didn't greet her with a hug or joy. He slowly backed away when she approached, causing her to stop. Eyes glanced down to her empty hands and finding that alone still scared him. Something else coiled around in his chest. An underlying wound he felt whenever he thought about what she did to Marc. To them.

"I'm sorry mom. I gotta say it. What you did, it weren't right."

He expected her to strike him but she didn't move. Didn't smile. Looked less like the mom he knew and more like the mom Marc knew. It was unnerving. Didn't stop him from continuing. The words bubbled out in his building resentments.

"I never said goodbye. I just wanted a mom that loved me and all I got was this. You were supposed to protect us. You were supposed to love him unconditionally. I want you gone. Out of my head. For good. I don't want to see you anymore."

She stepped forward and Steven cowered back into the corner. Trapped. His hand coming up to his mouth. Fear and apprehension bit into his every word. He covered his face to hide.

"Get out please. Go. I need you to leave me alone. Go please. Go away. Go-"

"You're safe. Steven. Take some deep breaths."

The yank back to reality was so quick he hadn't realized the words were being muttered while he kept his face covered. He popped up in a daze. Overthrowing Marc from the front so he could ground himself. Entirely disorientated and not even sure where the hell they were. An apartment, but not his own. Relief of not being back there washed over him.

"Yeah. Alright, yeah. Doin' loads better."

"Sure? You were wigging out a second ago."

"I'm fine. Super. Why wouldn't I be? What're we doing here for?"

Marc went quiet, finally. He could think. Steven was standing in some rando's kitchen. Food everywhere in the middle of preparation. Was he making himself a flipping sandwich??

"You didn't break in here did you?"

"I did but it's a friends place-"

"Marc. We talked about this. We can't be showing up places unannounced. Vampires don't go in places they haven't been invited and raid the cupboards, neither should we. It's just rude."

"That's not how vampires work and it ain't for me. Here. Let me take over. I'll finish up and we'll go."

"Oh no, mister. No. It's my body too and you're not booting me out again. I didn't even know you could make friends until you let me meet that nice angry lady and handsome devil. What happened with those translations anyway?"

"Steven-"

A door opened and Steven spun around looking alarmed. Looking around and going for the closest thing. Spatula. Not sure if he was going to throw it or fend off an attack with it.

"Ello!" He tried to make it sound light and casual. Entirely less scary than being in his own head. A small wave with the spatula before bringing it back into a two-handed hug against his chest. "I'm making sandwiches. I think. I don't really know what I'm making actually. Is this your place? Do you want me to go? Because I can. Willingly. I won't be a problem."

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