⚖️ Inbox - Steven Grant's Communicator

[de_nile]

This communicator belongs to Steven Grant! :)

If you need to contact someone that isn't Steven Grant, maybe you're looking for Marc Spector's dead drop...

Put date and format in the header, please!
Marc tags from reflectedlight
Steven tags from de_nile

Comments

[reflectedlight]

An empty cabin. You pick which door.

[It's a compromise. Marc can't have set up a trap if he doesn't know where they'll be, but Will can't, either.

He's standing, gestures just once to follow before he starts powerwalking out.]

[empathicfault]

[ Will nods and gets up to follow. He flashes Malcolm the number three behind his back- he'll try to head for Deck 3, if he can. Malcolm can sniff him out from there. Malcolm might even be able to without that- he's been working on honing that skill- but best to be as safe as possible.

He'll follow Marc to...probably the elevator? But even if not, he'll still keep up. And keep quiet. Thankfully, this is one of the quieter nights on the Barge and not too many people are still wandering around. ]

[reflectedlight]

[Three's fine. Marc lets Will pick a button, then walks behind him so he can choose an empty door.

Marc posts up along the far wall of the cabin when he can, immediately discards Steven's outer sweater layer and cuffs the sleeves of the button down to mid-arm. He even scrapes his hair back, a little, although it doesn't stay.]

Marc Spector. Yes, this worked at home. Yes, I know about floods, but not enough.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm takes the stairs to three, then follows Will's very familiar scent to a random empty cabin. He puts his back against the wall beside the door, so he won't be immediately obvious to someone stepping out. He can hear them easily from here. Thanks to Marc's grooming, he gets there in time to hear the man's name.]

[empathicfault]

[ Will picks the cabin in the center of the string of three empty cabins, across the hall and down a way from Malcolm's cabin. It will keep residents from listening in, but will also allow Malcolm to dip into one of the other empty rooms if the need arises.

He is glad to get a name. He really didn't want to keep referring to Marc as 'the alter,' even in his own mind. ]

Hello, Marc. It's good to meet you.

Floods are usually less all-encompassing than Breaches, but they're unpredictable. I think the last one that might've been relevant to you would be when we were switched with alternate versions of ourselves. I became someone who never pursued law enforcement. Malcolm...his alternate had followed in his dad's footsteps.

Depending on how it hit you, it could've been something innocuous or completely changed your dynamic with Steven. And maybe you could've worked around that. They're not permanent, but they can be revealing.

[reflectedlight]

[Marc doesn't answer the greeting. It is not nice to meet you. He would prefer not to meet anybody, ever. Everybody he's ever met has been either against his will or because he had another goal that required meeting a guy.

He crosses his arms. He wants to be doing something with his hands. He pushes it down and just stays antsy.]

If you've got any ideas, I'm all ears. Were you serious about being able to take Steven off the ship for Breaches?

[empathicfault]

I am.

[ He makes an annoyed noise in his throat, as he remembers an observation he had earlier. ]

-but that'll only work if he's actually a warden. Is he?

[reflectedlight]

[Marc does not answer, but he grimaces, which is enough of a tell. ffffffffffuck.

No. No, he's not.]

I screwed up. I got us killed. I'm an inmate. He's just... here too.

If you mean it when you don't want to hurt him...

[Then you won't tell him.

Please, Will. Marc is really really really trying.]

[empathicfault]

I don't.

[ He says that firmly. ]

But it does mean I can't take him off the ship. We can test it out, just in case he really doesn't count as an inmate. But in all likelihood, you'll both have to go through at least one breach.

So, honestly... My advice remains the same. There's not a way to contain this. Your reality is going to leak into his. This ship is too small for people not to notice.

[ His tone is gentle, almost pleading. ]

You should tell him before you don't have the option to.

[ He doesn't expect he'll get through on this, but he wanted to give it one strong try before they turn down the path of folly. ]

[reflectedlight]

[Marc thumps the back of his head onto the wall behind him and mentally runs through every curse word in every language he knows.]

What are you getting out of this.

[A question, but flat as hell.]

[empathicfault]

[ Will licks his lips. ]

Me? A few things.

I like Steven, and I like you. That doesn't usually happen so fast. When it does, I pay attention. I try to hold onto it.

My last case involved a man struggling with DID. He never had help. With his comorbid conditions, one of his alters subsumed the other. I only saw the aftermath, but I don't want to see it again.

I think Steven and Malcolm could become good friends. And I think they could help reach other.

And finally, I have a tendency to try and help the people that fall through the cracks. Call it hubris, if you want.

oops title misfire

[reflectedlight]

[Marc averts his eyes at the description of subsuming. He doesn't have a weak stomach, but in his specific life perspective, it's about as gruesome as a mental image gets. He has a similar gut feeling about it that most people do about subsistence cannibalism.

Even when Marc wants to vanish, he doesn't want to fuse or integrate. He can't even imagine it not destroying both of them to create a complete stranger.]

Are we a case?

[Bitter.

Marc doesn't believe you that you like him, dude. He's not here to be liked.

Little headshake.]

I think Malcolm is the kind of guy to figure out how things work by smashing them apart. You can't do that to Steven again. He can be his friend, but he can't be a puzzle or a case. I'm not alright with that.

[empathicfault]

You are not a case. Steven is not a case. I have been poked and prodded and analyzed and had several journal articles written about me without my consent. I'm not going to do that to someone else.

And.... [ Sigh. ] I will talk to Malcolm, let him know your condition on that. I'm sure he'll agree. And I don't want to cause any more cracks or discrepancies for Steven, now that I know.

[ His tone turns apologetic. ] Malcolm does know about you, by the way. I was...distressed, when Steven dissociated. We talked it through after he left and figured out the general situation together.

[reflectedlight]

[Steven's not a case. Okay. Marc does another shaky in-breath. That's another thing nobody's ever explicitly told him. He's not sure he exactly believes it, but even the lie is more than he's ever gotten. Steven-and-Marc have always been a case, a symptom, a curiosity, or a source of pity, that's why they're a god damn secret in the first place.

He doesn't necessarily like being like this, but he wouldn't trade being whole for losing Steven. Marc loves him.

Fucking hell. Subsuming. How could you do that to your little brother?]

Okay. Me neither. [No more cracks or discrepancies for Steven, he means. Please.

Marc grimaces again at the Malcolm revelation - this one looks like he's fighting down his temper.

Three is too many. Three is way too fucking many people to know what's going on.

He got lucky that Graham - Will? Sure. Will. - that he isn't trying to interfere with this balancing act. More people means more unpredictability. Even one person knowing was a lot. Marc had a very acute fight-or-flight and tried to stab him, so this one's already going better for both of them.

When he talks, the emotion is pure, pit-of-the-stomach dread.]

Who else knows?

[empathicfault]

No one. Just me and Malcolm, and that's because we figured it out together. Okay?

[ He can see the panic- feel it in his throat, really, like hands grasping for purchase on his trachea. As much as he'd like to point out that others will find out, and to try and get ahead of it? Now's not the time. ]

We're not going to spread it around. Again, I'm not going to reveal anything unless you okay it.

[reflectedlight]

Okay.

[He's teetering, but he always is. Marc's got it, for now. Marc's goal is almost always to have got it, just for now.]

I just... if I can graduate before something like that happens, a flood like that, I can pull this off. It's my responsibility, it's my fault we're in this mess. He shouldn't have to have his whole world upended just because I couldn't, you know, couldn't pull off a simple job. That's not right, that's not fair to him.

[empathicfault]

[ Will looks down, a sad smile coming to his lips. ]

A lot of that will be up to luck. Who you get paired with and when. Some temporary wardens are pretty nosy, others are less involved. A permanent one will help you get there. I'm not sure how the Admiral picks them, but they almost always seem to help on some level. Usually they're crucial to graduation.

But that involves trusting the process, and that's...understandably difficult. I suspect you've been looking out for Steven for a long time.

[ 'By himself' goes unsaid. ]

[reflectedlight]

We were just a little kid, [Marc manages to get out.]

And, now that's what I'm for.

[To look after the child they used to be.]

And that's what he's for.

[To be the part that is looked after, to be loved instead of hated. Marc was never aware of making the desicion, whoever that little boy was is long gone, but he can piece it together. The kid couldn't figure out how to want protect Marc Spector, who he hated down to his bones, so the kid also became someone different that he could stomach living for the sake of. Someone good. That's how the body survived.]

And it's fine. It's alright. But I can't hurt him on purpose, I can't tell him how bad I failed, or what - what the fuck am I good for, why would he need me at all, why would he-?

I'll do whatever the Admiral wants, whatever my Warden says ... I don't care. I just need to get him home.

[empathicfault]

[ Will nods, takes a deep breath in, and lets it out as he thinks. ]

Can I ask how you died? What happened?

[reflectedlight]

Shot. Then fell.

I was in Austria, trying to keep a cult from doing ...something bad. Steven was asleep, like he is now. I never take work when he's around to see it.

[Explaining the bullshit with being Khonshu's avatar is going to sound too... too out there. It's not a secret, but it's something he can push off for later.]

I got sloppy, I took a bullet to center mass, I ended up out a window. I must have hit the ground, I had to have, but the last thing I remember is just knowing it was about to happen.

And if it was just me? I'd have turned the Admiral down. I screwed up, it was on me. It's not that bad to go out trying to keep something worse from happening. But Steven and I don't work like that. The body dies, he dies too.

Your last... your last case. What happened to them?

[Marc has a suspicion.]

cw: murder-suicide

[empathicfault]

[ Will nods through that. He wants to ask more about the cult, but of course he'll answer Marc's question. That's just quid pro quo. ]

Francis Dolarhyde was known to the tabloids as the Tooth Fairy, but when he identified himself, he used the name The Great Red Dragon. Influenced by a painting of William Blake. By the time I was pulled onto the case, he had killed three families, each during the full moon. He'd kill them and put mirrors in their eyes and bite them, using a uniquely deformed set of dentures.

We found out later that Dolarhyde had pursued a relationship with a woman just after his murders started, and I strongly suspect she helped him hold onto that aspect of himself, the part that was content to just be a man who worked at a video processing facility.

[ Will pulls in a breath. Lets it out. ]

My psychiatrist 'friend' who'd framed me had been in prison for awhile, at that point- apparently the Dragon admired him. Upon contact, Hannibal managed to send him after my family. My wife and stepson. They were hospitalized but made it out. Still, I knew it wasn't going to stop.

So I...put a plan into action. I arranged a prison break for Hannibal, and we met the Dragon on a full moon. Hannibal and I killed the Dragon- and then I pulled Hannibal over a cliff edge with me. That's how I died.

There wasn't anything left of Francis when he met us for the fight. My guess is that the Dragon was the 'strong' alter who took over when things were hard, and...eventually, he decided he was the only personality that fit in a world that was only harsh to him. Things slid from protection of his alter to a compulsion to seek invulnerability.

[reflectedlight]

[Okay, well, this is fully bonkers and it knocks Marc out of his despair spiral.]

What the hell.

He just bit people? Wh- Like a raccoon?

Alright. Never mind. I was gonna make a point about me being a bad guy but I was way off. I'm not that kind of bad guy.

I also never broke anybody out of jail that tried to kill my wife and kid, but I assume when you were an inmate they already rang your bell pretty good for that one.

[empathicfault]

He put his mark on people. [ Will lightly corrects, when Marc brings up raccoons. ]

Rang my bell? No. Once Shaw saw my file, she put more focus on building trust and discussing 'appropriate reactions' with me when things came up on the Barge. She gave me weapons that could be used in self-defense, she took me on patrols to give me routine. That was...honestly, it was a hell of a lot harder to take than punishment. Being cared for, by someone who knew all of my dark spots.

And I hadn't released Lecter in order to free him. I knew exactly where he wanted to be and made sure that was under my control at all times. He knew I planned to kill him. I think he was just hoping to change my mind.

[ He lets out a huff, shaking his head before he got too lost in the Hannibal of it all. Anyway- ]

You mentioned you were stopping a cult. Was it a delusional cult, or one for a god that existed? We've had mostly the latter brought up around here.

[reflectedlight]

Yeah, I'm not giving him that. Raccoons can leave a mark too.

[He refuses to think of this cringe-ass painting nerd with the vocabulary he chose for himself that makes what he's doing sound cool. Fuck you, Dragon guy, hurting people is easy. Protecting your alter is hard. You can't do your one job?

Well neither can Marc! They're both selfish pieces of shit! But somehow you lowered the bar!

But, okay, let's not dwell on that, fucking hell. Focus.

Hnhngn. Marc huffs at the assertion it's not just going to be punishment, turns his head away, sets his jaw. He's good for punishment. He's tough. Will's got it right that therapy shit or whatever sounds a lot harder.]

Most people who hurt a bunch of strangers aren't that complicated or smart.

At least you got him.

[This is all too romanticized for Marc's black and white ethics. They're both bad. Kill 'em.]

I avoided mentioning because it sounds delusional. But at this point the bar's been lowered down to mirrors in people's eyeballs, so, yeah, what the hell. The cult was following some kind of heart-devouring crocodile goddess, and their goal was to resurrect her. I was working for a god, too, from the same group of gods she was on the outs with, that didn't want her to be resurrected again.

...

I'm not going to tell you what the stupid superhero name was, because it's not as dumb as Great Red Dragon, but it's close. Kahl saw Khonshu's mark on Steven, I'm pretty sure I didn't make Khonshu up.

[In the comics he might have made Khonshu up, but we don't have time to unpack actual face-slice-offer comics Marc.]

[empathicfault]

Ammit and Khonshu...so it is Egyptian gods.

[ He'd wondered, since Steven was so excited by Egyptian mythology. Even if it 'wasn't real' for him, and thus safe. ]

As long as you're not called Sailor Moon, I doubt it's too bad. How is working for Khonshu?