Work Text:
Jack blinked awake, something wet dripping onto his face. He squinted up at the ceiling, his vision slowly blurring back into focus. A metallic taint filled his nostrils; there was blood on the ceiling.
“Elsa?” he gasped, reaching across the bed to grasp his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Elsa, am I dreaming?”
“Marc?” Steven whispered. “Marc? Why are we bleeding?”
Marc’s visage materialized in their reflection on the dark tv on the hotel wall. “Don’t panic, Steven.”
“Why are we bleeding, Marc?” Steven repeated, anxiety edging his voice.
“I don’t know, Steven. I don’t know.”
“I-“ Steven carefully picked up an arm, flinching as the red liquid rolled down his sleeve. “I’m scared to move, Marc. I don’t think this is all ours.”
Marc’s gaze darted across the small room, expression darkening. “No, I don’t think so either.”
“Can… can you front? You’re better at…” he made a sweeping motion with his arm at the shadows surrounding him, wincing slightly as a sharp pain jolted up his shoulder. “This.”
Marc’s reflection dissipated to be replaced by Steven’s, whose eyes were tightly closed.
“Don’t panic, Steven,” Marc repeated.
“Trying not to,” Steven responded, muffled somewhat by his hands covering his mouth. “Did you black out too?”
“Yeah,” Marc responded hesitantly, raising his head, trying to gauge the situation in the low light. He couldn’t see much.
Steven peeked one eye open, but quickly squeezed it shut again with a sharp inhale. “Bodies, Marc. Those are dead bodies.”
Marc pulled himself to his feet. “Yeah.”
“We’re in a hotel room filled with dead bodies.”
“It’s not filled with them. There’s only three.”
“Only?” Steven squeaked, opening one eye just enough to stare at Marc.
“Well, it could be worse. We don’t seem to be too injured.” Marc stepped over a detached table leg and leaned down to check the unmoving hand of one of the unlucky occupants of the room. “Rigor Mortis has set in. Whatever happened to them was a while ago.”
“We happened to them, Marc.”
Marc looked up at his alter.
“There’s no other explanation, is there?”
Marc glanced around the room. All strangers. “I didn’t do this, Steven. And you certainly didn’t.”
“Who did it, then? Why are we here?”
“Don’t panic, Steven.” Marc was on the verge of panic himself.
“I’ll panic if I want to,” Steven huffed, eyes still firmly shut. “It doesn’t affect anything if I’m not fronting.”
“It’s distracting,” Marc countered, gingerly tiptoeing around the flailed limbs blocking the path to the window.
Neither noticed a flat cap emerging onto the tv screen. “It’s alright, mi amigo.” Jake patted Steven on the back.
Steven shrieked, jumping away from the sudden contact. “What touched me?!?”
Marc’s attention shot to the tv and the two reflections staring each other down cast on its screen. He tripped over one of the bodies.
“Dreaming what, darling?” Elsa mumbled, switching on the lamp. They both blinked against the sudden onslaught of light. “Why do you have blood on your face?”
Jack pointed upwards numbly.
“Oh.” Elsa frowned at the pool of red above them.
Something thudded upstairs, and the duo sprang to their feet.
Marc pushed himself off the floor with a grunt, spitting out a mouthful of bloody carpet. Who are you?!”
“Mi nombre es Jake Lockley,” the second reflection responded, tipping his hat. “Me disculpo por asustarte, Steven.”
Steven just stared at him blankly, though some of the tension drained from his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”
Jake nodded. “I’m sorry I scared you, Steven. I forgot for a moment you didn’t know I existed.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Marc asked again, gaping at Jake.
“I’m Jake. Jake Lockley.”
“What are you doing in our headspace?” Marc’s brow furrowed.
Steven rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious, Marc? He’s an alter we didn’t know about yet.”
“How are you so calm about this?!”
“Didn’t you stop to think about why we still have unexplained black outs? Or the second sarcophagus we saw in the Afterlife? I suspected there must have been a third personality for a while. I assumed you’d figured it out, too.”
Marc glared at him.
“He’s smart,” Jake shrugged. “Neither of you were supposed to know about me, but he managed to break the barrier. Again.”
There was an awkward silence, with the trio simply staring at each other. Eventually it was broken by Steven quietly asking, “I assume you were the one who killed them.” He motioned at the bodies scattered across the room.
“Para la justicia. Tu sabes como funciona. Soy el puño de Khonshu.”
“Khonshu?!?” Marc and Steven barked in unison.
Marc cursed.
“I knew that deal was too good to be true!” Steven stomped his foot.
“Steven,” Marc said, deceptively calm. “Steven, will you front for a minute? I’d like to yell at our friend here without waking the neighbors.”
Jack and Elsa dashed down the hall, Jack leading the way with his nose to the air, tracking the scent of blood to an innocent looking white door. He tested the handle, and to his surprise it turned easily. The duo pressed themselves against the door as he slowly pushed it open, Elsa readying a sword.
Neither expected to see a bloody man standing unmoving in the center of the room, staring angrily at the blank television. He didn’t seem to notice their arrival.
Jack and Elsa crept inside, Jack glancing around to check the bodies littering the floor. The stench of death assaulted his nose. He turned to Elsa with a slight tilt of his head, signaling they were a lost cause.
Elsa slid past him, sword lowering toward the man’s neck.
“Watch your back, Steven,” Jake warned, eyes locked on the woman edging toward his alter.
Steven followed his gaze, flinching at the blade aimed at his throat. “I didn’t do this,” he squeaked instinctively.
Marc sighed, jabbing a finger at Jake. “Stay here. I’m not done with you yet. Steven, let me take care of this.”
Steven gratefully retreated back into the headspace.
Jack noticed a shift in the man’s stance, and the glint in his eyes hardening. He called out for Elsa to watch out, but the man had already sprung into action. Jack darted after him after he shoved the sword away and took off toward the window.
Jack tackled him into the wall, twisting around him to keep him from fighting back.
“If you didn’t do this,” Elsa spoke calmly, “who did?”
Marc grunted as he was forced into the wall, struggling against the smaller man’s grip. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I didn’t do this, one of my alters did.”
“Let me handle this,” Jake demanded from inside the tv.
“Stay out of this, Jake,” Marc hissed, earning a confused hum from Jack. “I can clean up your mess.”
“Right,” Elsa drawled. “And you’re, what, talking to yourself to make us believe that?”
“No, I’m trying to keep the man who did do this from fronting again.”
Jake heaved an exasperated sigh. "I'm no longer giving you the choice."
Jack noticed another change in the man's eyes a second too late, finding himself being thrown across the room. Else's sword burrowed deep into the wall as he ducked away from her attack.
"Jack?"
"I'm fine," Jack groaned, pushing himself to his feet.
The duo stared as bandages appeared from nowhere and wrapped around the man.
“What kind of witchcraft is this?” Elsa demanded.
Jake cracked his neck with a wry smile. “It’s not witchcraft; it’s the powers of Khonshu. Do you really wish to impede the judgment of a god?”
Elsa scoffed, but Jack's brow furrowed at the name.
"You call this," Elsa motioned at the corpses, "judgement? Judgement for what, exactly?"
The man grinned, a low grinding laugh emitting from deep in his throat. "You're one to talk, Hunter. You kill innocent monsters just because they're different than you. But these people?" He glanced around the room, kicking at one of the bodies. "These people were murderers. Drug dealers. They deserved this. Khonshu would not have targeted them if they didn't."
"And you expect us to just take your word for that? All killers try to justify themselves. You're no different."
"I see you aren't even going to address your own killing. But the proof is on them, if you'd just look."
Jack slipped away to examine one of the dead men, a faint scent of cocaine wafting into the air as he tugged at his jacket pocket. A bloody knife and bag of white dust slipped into view. "Well, this one was definitely a user, at least," Jack confirmed slowly.
Elsa's sword never wavered.
"Look, we could sit here arguing all day until someone comes in and finds you threatening me with a sword -I could easily frame you for all this, by the way- or we can agree to just pass each other by. There's nothing you can do to stop me from leaving, even with two people and a weapon." Moon Knight took a step toward the window, eyeing Elsa warily. "I don't want to start a fight, but I won't hesitate to end one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have two alters I need to explain my existence to."
Elsa jabbed him with the tip of her sword, and Jack bristled behind her. "You aren't leaving that easily."
He cocked his head. "No? How about I prove I'm not just a killer with a fancy gimmick."
"And how exactly do you intend to do that?"
He slid past her to tower over Jack, who was still crouched at the dead man's side. "I would think a Hunter would be able to identify a werewolf easier than this. I have to say I'm impressed you've hid so well to be able to accompany a woman whose job it is to hunt you down like an animal."
Jack swallowed heavily. "H-how do you know that?"
"We are both creatures of the night, my friend. And now, you're beholden to me to protect you, and she knows I am telling the truth."
Jack snickered softly. "I'm not beholden to anyone. Elsa is already well aware of what I am."
Jake could only stare down at the shorter man in shock. A Hunter and a monster coexisting? Unheard of. He could feel Elsa's cold glare boring holes into the back of his neck, but it was a long while before he was able to turn around. "You knew? And you didn't kill him?" He looked back down at the wolf in question. "You're a lucky devil, you know that?"
"Not luck, necessarily," Elsa growled. "We're both just different than our peers."
"Different? I'm sure. You don't seem so much, but..." Jake crouched and met the other man's eyes, "you certainly are. There's a softness in you. Almost reminds me of one of my alters." He grinned, a legitimate smile this time. "You'd probably have hit it off if you hadn't happened to meet the way you did. As it stands he's probably scared of you for accusing him of murder."
"I never actually accused anyone," Jack retorted.
"No, perhaps not, but we all know what you were thinking. Steven is a sensitive man, he’s probably terrified you're trying to kill me right now, or that I've already been arrested." Jake's smirk returned. "But neither will be happening, will they? If you start this fight I guarantee you won't win."
"Are you threatening us?"
"Technically yes, but only if you try to stop me. All I want to do is get out of here so I can explain what's going on to my alters and get them back to London and their wife."
Jack had finally recovered enough from the shock of Moon Knight knowing what he was to take offense. "Look, I don't care how you know I'm a werewolf or why you want to leave, you've admitted to murdering three people and we're not about to let you get away with that!"
There was a tense pause while the trio stared each other down.
Elsa drew herself to her full stature, glaring at the larger man. "And who are you that you think you have the right to just waltz in here and kill three men without any repercussions?"
"I'm Moon Knight. The fist of Khonshu."
"No. Who are you, really? No fake names or claiming to work for a god."
"Jake." He bowed slightly. "Jake Lockley. The first personality you met who was scared out of his wits was Steven Grant, and the one who tried to run was Marc Spector. He's the base personality." Jake's head tilted contemplatively. "They had nothing to do with this, by the way. They were just as shocked as you to find themselves in a room full of corpses."
"That's not answering the question. Who's the real you?"
Jake sighed heavily, head falling back. "I just expl- nevermind." He met Else's gaze. "We have DID. The base personality is Marc, but the personality you're currently talking to is Jake."
"Alright, if Marc is the real you then let me talk to him," Elsa demanded. Jack shook his head at her with a frown.
"I'm just as real as Marc," Jake retorted, crossing his arms. "Besides, Marc knows nothing about this."
"Let me talk to him."
Jake shrugged. "Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you about his cluelessness though."
Marc slid into a fighting stance as he was dragged back to the front. "What, did they scare you away Jake?"
Jake snorted from his position back in the tv reflection. "I was trying to be diplomatic. I'm sure you don't know what that means."
Steven slowly materialized next to him, hyperventilating into a paper bag.
"Where on Earth did you get a bag, Steven?"
Steven glared at him over over the edge of the paper, took one last deep breath, and let the bag disappear. "You didn't know you could will things into existence in the headspace? What were you doing all that time when I was fronting?"
"Being depressed in the dark," Jake answered with a laugh.
Elsa and Jack watched Marc's expression darken as he jabbed a finger at the tv, though Jack was the only one who seemed to have any idea what was happening.
"Shut up, Jake," Marc hissed. "And no, Steven, I never figured that out because it never occurred to me it was something that could happen, nor did I ever need it." There was a pause. "No, I'm not mad I never knew it." Another pause, and Marc turned away from the tv with a huff. "Look, we have more pressing matters to worry about. We can have this argument later."
"So you're the base personality?" Elsa remarked, unimpressed.
"Yeah," Marc snipped. "And I've had a really crappy day so if you want diplomacy I suggest you ask Steven to front. Otherwise move out of my way and we won't have any problems."
"So you're going to try and threaten us too, are you? Do you have any idea who we are?"
"No, and quite frankly I don't care."
"I am Elsa Bloodstone. Yes, that Bloodstone family."
"I still have no idea who that is, but I'm assuming you're some kind of big shot fighter or something."
"You're not wrong," Elsa hummed.
"Look, I don't know what Jake told you, and I don't care what kind of reputation you have, I'm leaving out that window and you can't stop me. Whatever happened here was at the behest of a grumpy bird man and I would very much like to have him explain if that was possible, but as it stands you're just gonna have to take our word for it."
"Uh huh. Not happening."
"That's enough circling for one night," Khonshu sighed, materializing behind Marc. "Let him go, worm, or face my wrath."
"Ha! I'm not the only one he calls worm!" Steven crowed.
Marc pinched the bridge of his nose. "And we're back to dealing with him again..."
Elsa and Jack stared in horror at the bird skulled being glaring down at them.
"What are you?" Elsa demanded.
"I am Khonshu, and you are getting in my way. I am giving you the chance to leave now, before I turn my wrath upon you."
"You want to kill us too? And you call this justice?"
"I do not intend to kill you, only move you."
"Elsa," Jack gulped. "Elsa, that's Khonshu. Actual Khonshu. You're talking to the literal god of the moon."
"I don't care if he's the most powerful being on the planet, he ordered the death of three innocent men and I will get an explanation."
Khonshu slammed his staff into the ground, a wild wind sweeping through the room. "Did you not look at the bodies? Or the room around you? They're drug dealers and murderers!"
"Elsa," Jack gripped her shoulder, "I know every myth and legend connected to the moon. Khonshu is the protector of the travelers of the night. I'm sure he had good reason to want them dead."
"Now you're on their side too?" Elsa snapped. "I thought you were above this!"
Jack flinched. "It's just... he's supposed to protect innocents. That's the Moon Knight's job."
Elsa hesitated.
"Let them go?"
Silence reigned for a tense moment before Elsa relented, stepping aside to let them pass.
Steven pushed to the front, gingerly stepping toward the window. "Thank you," he said quietly. "You seem like good people. I wish we'd met under better circumstances." He grinned as he reached the window sill. "And don't worry, Marc'll be giving Jake and Khonshu a right telling off."
He pulled the window open and slipped through, retreating back into the headspace. Marc Threw open his cape, gliding down to the streets below. Khonshu disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
"Steven seems nice," Jack remarked.
"I couldn't tell them apart."
Jack laughed. "They all had different accents. The British one was Steven."
"Right." Elsa turned back to the door. "Well, if this turned out to be a bad idea don't blame me."
Jack nodded. "Fair enough."
Elsa wrapped an arm around Jack's shoulders. "Now, let's get back to our room before someone blames us for this mess."