"I just- I just don't know anymore mum, they keep showing up to my house asking for some thug named Jacob or Marcus or bloody **DRACULA?!.**-- sorry sorry mum I didn't mean to swear." Steven pinched his eye pits and nose bridge ashamed and shaking. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept properly or said something so profane in front of his mother.
["Habibi it's okay, if London's not safe anymore you could always move back north with Me and your Tati"]
Steven crumpled and stumbled over, like an old brick wall onto loitering teenagers.
Nothing could've been so bittersweet. The swirling warmth of burnt milk tea in his ears and chest; hearing his mother genuinely offering to take him back in as if he'd only been gone a week. Only to get gobsmacked struck again realizing-
"Oh god I don't even know where I'm going anymore, got caught up- well you know how I get. Anyway sorry to keep you mum, tell Dad I said hi hello and all that"
[BE SAFE LITTLE MINNOW!! Love youUUUU!!]
He spun and jerked as if he wanted to broadcast he had the motor skills of that one newborn horse skating on ice into a buffalo's face
He watched that movie all the time, played it for his fish too.
They seemed to enjoy it.
Especially when Steven would open face sob violently singing along to "Sound of the Bugle" while rocking back and forth crunching a pillow so hard he totally hasn't cramped before.
It didn't help that he would bet his slightly above minimum wage job that he was on a high street near Chelsea, and he was half right kinda..
---
About a 100 ft behind Steven, a foppish stern faced redhead talking way too loudly to be trailing the person he's talking about.
"Ye not a single word was coming from that phone, focused hard, even used that cute little gadget foggy got me- "
"Yk that little cigarette thing, had it pointed at him the whole time, not a single word from the other end"
"Just whale clicking and -
"Yes ofc this is a secure line Ms. Greene, I'm a professional-- FUCK i got mustard on my fun suit.
It's fun bc it's little sharks on it !! and it matches the tie"
"Anyway I'll get you connected with the associates you listed and I'll make sure he gets home"
"No, Ms El-Faouly will not be attending she is no longer taking my calls. "
"YES yes ik ik, discreetly he won't even know I'm there"
Matt clacks the phone dramatically next to his ear just to hot mic drop it into his bag.
Truly a performance for only him
He saunters quickly over to Steven, parting the red sea of pedestrians by tapping his long cane on peoples shoes so they'll all do the ablelist shuffle.
🎼You put two eyes up, then a few looks down and then they turn the fuck around 🎶and that's what it's all about 👏👏.
He then plays morse code on the floor around Steven to form a perimeter then purposely corners him then pushes into Stevens sensible and suspiciously clean loafers to force an interaction.
"Oh forgive me, I always get turned around on this block."
Already sweating profusely and very lost himself Steven shrunk into the corner and began begging his pardon.
"Oh god oh terribly sorry, I um actually sorry to say I'm also lost it seems "
"Oh no worries man it happens a million times a day in this city"
Matt's perpetual little laugh betrayed him, he wasn't supposed to loosen up like that around complete strangers. There's no way Steven would notice, only Matt would beat himself up about it later as if his nerdy little giggle would lead to brownstone burning down.
He tapped the curb with the braille block a few times
"Actually I think I'm not too far from where I'm staying, could you do me a favor? Its two blocks down unit 616, it's a big brown slab can't miss it. I just smack far less grannies or kids in their Mary Janes' with a sighted person walking with me."
"Sh-sure Sutton's nice this time of year, I think a chat on the way home will be good for both of us"
Matt offered up his arm to hold onto to keep them on track and just like that Steven had forgotten Detectives JJ's immortal words;
Never ever let em take you to a secondary location.
"How's fall treating you?" Matt lead the way knowing full well Steven wouldn't think to call his bluff and that this was way safer than trying to orchestrate Steven from a block away like Squirrel Girl wanted.
"Oh um lovely really, seen the sun practically everyday it's like summer never left. Almost unnerving hehe "
"Ye? I haven't seen the sun in decades" as Matt cocked his head forcing Steven to meet his smug full-face no-teeth grin.
You ever been knuckles deep in someone and then look up, only to meet the eyes of a wrathful unforgiving god
Matty had, before well- you know
When the nuns who knew what he was, found him holding hands with another boy
In the glare of Sweeney when he stepped on his shoes one night at the ring
but he didn't need sight to feel the shift;
the surge of energy
the tightening of almost ever muscle
the clenched breath
the heart almost stops then skips then pounds.
Matt made so many mistakes today;
Ignoring Marc and Jake
That fuck ass tie and suit combo
but dropping his guard around a man that he knew could kill him, has tried to in the past, and that hed also done that joke to before while "trying" to remain covert
Whether it was The One Above All or baby Jesus or Khonshu
A god was going to intervene to smack this white boys shit for having the audacity
As they should
With a blink, a pregnant pause, it happend.
Stevens head cocked forward and with a belligerent chorus and torquing Matt's arm out of its socket
Marc russian-twist-throws Matt, right into someones side mirror sending the poor defenseless mirror and a soulless but well meaning twunk sliding his face from metal into concrete.
And with a boom that felt more Old Testament than Plutarch
"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE." Marc wasnt in the mood to wait for a response. So after scaring off any bystander that could care, he did a little community service by picking up the trash off the sidewalk. Then proceeded to drag that trash by its hair, head and all directly into the a column of this very unlucky BMW.
"IS THIS ALL SOME GAME TO YOU? HUH?!" Marc again, did not actually care what a catholic had to say, especially not if he was gonna shake the baby like a kid swinging their barbie flail to smite their siblings.
" IS MY FUCKING SANITY, MY LIFE, a funny fucking soap opera for you to prance around in"
Neither of them were new to this kinda scene. Whether it was plowing another man on a strangers vehicle. Or assaulting a disabled person on a NYC sidewalk. Definitely the dramatic and moody hair pulling with one sided dialogue and some promised bruising.
But Matthew must always be a stereotype and more than anything, the center of attention.
"We have to stop meeting like this" and with that he had wasted his very very small chance to make it home tonight without a broken bone.
"You put us through this, and you still wanna wear that piss shit little grin"
Right now Marc's mind was the inside of a Tilt-a-whirl. Nothing but spinning, flashing colors and screaming. For Marc life after being brought back was like being kick-dropped into someone else's worst moments over and over. Never getting more than a day or three of coherency before the next bit of head trauma or mirror staring contest would-
A 7th or 8th date with a woman who clearly finds him pathetic.
"I cant believe you said Princess was fat"
And she left after scolding you for what sounded like the 15th time about "pretending to be some macho american meathead to impress me, you're just like my fucking dad ugh. You could at least remember my dogs fucking name Steven."
A heavy clink and maybe a footstep, he wipes tears that weren't his. Springs for the bat he doesn't remember hiding but felt written in the scars along his hands. He busts the door open and its just a raccoon sniffing his tossed water filters.
Blood that didn't smell like his. Glowing moons in the reflection of the eyes of whoever this growling buzz-cut was. His inner ear rocking like a sub-woofer making the barking of the walking leather jacket impossible to here. Cigarette smoke, sweat and sandalwood?? The second he thought he knew what he was there for, as the fist of Khonshu, to sweep this middle age school shooter off the street. The moment he thinks he understands the curve-ball takes his chin off. Well yk a red billy club baton into the back of his head leaving the rest a black blue and fluorescent yellow flash bang up until that stupid little smile.
Every fucking time it was that goofy earnest little sliver of white.
His own little misplaced catholic misery angel.
Like a out of order sign when you've been holding it for 2 hours.
Heralding nothing but trouble and messes to clean up later.
Marc never got a second to unpack whether he was addicted to messy relationships, or excuses to commit violence.
All he knew is this white boy was dumb enough to threaten all Marc and Jake had worked to keep. Had texted his wife after a one night stand she didn't know about, offering quote "To Eiffel her between twin towers". And more than all that, he thought Steven was too dumb, or Marc too hateful or Jake too repressed to not see what he was doing.
Matt had like always flown his little wax cherub wings right into hellfire mistaking it for a sun or gods light.
If misery made a man, Marc would make sure Mother Mary and the New York Dept. of Sanitation knew Matty was a very righteous man. From the dent his face made in the very unfortunate M3's passenger door and the quart or so of blood, hair and hopefully teeth he intended to leave in-front of 16 Sutton Place.
If Marc weren't so upset he likely would've followed the visions and screaming and specifically plucked Matt's pretty teeth from his skull like one should from their employer. But if the Chorus, Khonshu, Layla, Jake, Steven, The other Steven, Spidey or Logan couldn't get through to him, truly who could.
To be fair Matt got in a swing or three, but Marc took one to the face, not even a flinch. The second or third got blocked twisted, crunched then used as a handle to send him into the scaffolding the city demands for a building of this height.
We are no longer being fair, imagine being able to hear this mans heartbeat, blood flow, breathing and basically predict his next move; and still get pretzled by a guy in a cardigan.
Just like taskmaster, Matty was learning all over again why no one tries to predict Moon Knight.
Send a long cane into his stomach bc you could tell he had not tensed it up yet to take at hit? Doesn't matter, Marc ate the hit pulled you by the third handle you've given him this fight. Now he's pulled you up almost onto him so his right hook he had cocked could have a meet cute with your spleen and large intestine.
Manage to use your bent leg to sweep his leg, tough break champ now he's on-top of you and has got no problem punching a guy with glasses.
"I bet you're fucking enjoying this you creep. You just cant get enough of being the white savior. Mommy's little martyr" Punctuated not with a period but a bloody lougie into Matt's busted designer shades.
"You know me so well, i just cant get enough of getting my ass beat. I was actually hoping to speak to you, you know if you-" Having gone way over-budget on words, Marc proceeded to drag Matt up the store display window by his nostrils having found Matt's fifth? handle (i lost count). To add another point in the disabled on disabled crime folder Marc uses the stolen long cane to compress his windpipe and stop the flow of stupid coming from Matt's mouth.
"I cant really make a decent argument in this position Marc, -Im kinda running out of air"
"That's generally the idea of choking someone, yeah"
"C-come on, I know I am not exactly -- y o u r favorite" A distinct wet click or crunch is heard as Matt uses an expensive and ot not recommended phrase.. "-but you gotta believe I only want the best for all of you."
"I don't have to do anything, and if i was in charge we wouldn't believe a thing a greasy weasel like you had to say"
Matt knew full well, Marc wouldn't skin this weasel, not in the street with so many possible witnesses. But bc of that fateful day with the surprise Nickelodeon slime bucket in the shape of a truck, and you know years of training, he could hear a difference. Marc's heart and arm muscles were clenching with restraint and the smell of blood lust was down from straight up tasting it.
Unfortunately body language can betray both of them, so the second the game was given away, Marc decided maybe he would try some taxidermy. A blind headbutt rocked Matt's skull leaving a glass spiderweb on the display.
Neither had a spider sense but they didn't need it. All street level New York heroes had a mental timer for that special number. 15 minutes 30 seconds and NYPD would be here and ready to taze and cuff them, suit or no suit. At the moment the call was just "Some homeless man in a sweater assaulting a flamingo and a few cars outside of Jimbo's Hamburgers." For Marc it sounded like his mom "dropping" a coffee mug at speed just above his head. For Matt it was church bells and tinnitus through old wood and brick. For Jake it was the icy hot rush of realizing you were asleep at the wheel and about to plow into oncoming traffic.
"Marc really thought he could step in on my turf. Probecitooo se olvida cual es mi trabajo. y tu-". Jake stoic gaze disarmed people the way a grenade launcher does your local bank staff. Not eyes that pierced all the way through you but precisely pinned you in place. You're now his mariposita and you're not going anywhere. And you know it didn't help that he was now gripping the back of Matt's head tugging on the minor lacerations he's built up over their little dance.
"¿Que pasas Mateo? This is what you wanted right. My DIRECT AND TOTAL ATTENTION?! PENDEJO
"Jake? Hi, I'm so sure he deserves that and by all means you can finish this somewhere else, but I've kind've maxed out my get out of jail free cards, so if you could drag our friend into the alley and a few blocks just this way"
"Bellota!? always so understanding and little late" Jake as if the rest of him was a statue turned to greet her, but left an unyielding pressure maybe increasing amount pulling matts hair up and against say it with me now, this poor hamburger joints window.
Over Squirrel Girls shoulder and in the many fragmented reflections that crackled around where Matt's skull met the glass, the lights could be seen arriving.
Doreen sighed. "Ye..., I had to pickup Tippy from the-"
The distinct noise of a 9mm "warning shot" glancing past their ears this time into the restaurants door, guess the glass was getting lonely.
Then as always, followed the barely coherent barking of a pig in a suit.
Doreen could usually talk anyone down but she's been very busy with her thesis work and unfortunately the best defense against rhetoric is applied violence and ignorance.
"Go GO NOW MOVE THOSE SCULPTED CHEEKS UPSTAIRS AND DOWN!"
She took the A-Stance (not short for avenger i think) you square your hips, make sure your foot face forward, clench your butt and back a bit like your bracing for a hit.
It's not exactly "Conqueror's Haki" but it's a great way to make it look like you mean business to the public, other heroes villains too. Some random robbers or teenagers committing a misdemeanor will just drop it. But sometimes you got spike up your tail to make it look like you totally aren't covering for your buddies who for superheroes, ARE TAKING FUCKING FOREVER TO MOVE!!
They're still superheroes if they're street level right? Is that a slur?
Does Spidey get called street tier and put his hand over his mouth?
Now, the taxpayer bill for this call has gone from 20 bucks to over 1.5k, Jake is on another list for kidnapping while brown, and smuggling a 160 lb ginger teabag over an alley wall while evading police. That's definitely a crime you don't have to look it up, have some fucking whimsy Emma.
___
### About 2 Weeks Later