The Imagination Latibule: Moon Knight - The Rise of the Moon

Chapter 6

"What is it you lost?"

"A scarab."

You had an awful poker face, and the fear and panic that suddenly struck you was more than obvious to Fitzgerald.

"We're gonna need you to come with us too, miss...?" he posed the question and you narrowed your eyes.

"You should know my name," you said warily.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Can I see a badge? Some identification or something?" you asked. He sighed and pulled out a badge from his pocket, flashing it at you for less than a second. You grabbed it before he could put it back and stared. For reasons you didn't care to disclose to him, you knew what a real badge looked like.

"This is fake," you said. "Who the hell are you?" You looked back up from the badge to a fist punching you directly in the face. You crumpled to the floor, eyes watering; tasting blood. You looked up at Fitzgerald and the last thing you saw was the bottom of his boot.

You woke up feeling motion sick and stirred slightly. You felt a hand on your head and nearly lashed out, but as you blinked crusted blood out of your eyes, you realised it was Steven. The two of you were in the back of a car, and he was stroking your hair absentmindedly, with no idea you were awake as your head rested on his lap.

"We've only gone and got ourselves a full-blown international fugitive," Kennedy said from the front passenger seat as she read through a tablet – Fitzgerald drove. You glanced at the window and Marc was in the reflection, looking back at Steven.

"It's not..." Steven trailed off, trying to defend himself. "It's a mistake. It's not me."

"Marc Spector was part of a team of mercenaries that hit a dig site in Egypt. Here's what they did to the archaeologists. Zip-tied and shot in the back of the head, execution-style." Steven stared at the reflection in absolute horror and so did you. Marc looked away shamefully, and that's when he noticed you were awake.

"That's dark man," Fitzgerald said.

"No, no, no, I didn't do that! That's not me," Steven cried, and you groaned at his movements.

"Of course, you didn't, Steven," Kennedy said.

"y/n, are you alright?" Marc asked and Steven glanced down at you then back up and cursed at him.

"No, you don't get to speak to 'er mate," he said. His voice went from angry to soft as he spoke to you. "You ok love?" He licked his thumb and wiped a smear of blood from your cheek. "Them bastards hurt you and I'll... I'll..."

"Zip tie and shoot us in the back of the head?" Kennedy asked and he fell quiet.

"Where are we going?" you groaned, shooting Marc a nasty glare.

"I thought we were going to the police station," Steven said.

Fitzgerald chuckled. "Now, why would you think that?" You and Steven shared a scared glance as Fitzgerald drove you to the back end of god knows where.

"Are you really ok love?" he asked as you rested your head against his shoulder.

"Dizzy," you admitted, "but a million times better than if you weren't here." His raised his hands – still handcuffed – and gently stroked your cheeks.

"I'd give you a hug if I could," he said and you smiled at the notion, nuzzling your head further into his neck as he turned his body to you.

"I know," you said, planting a quick kiss on his neck. You saw him blush but chose not to call him out on it, and as you continued to be driven, you focused on the familiarity of him to calm your nerves. Eventually, you pulled into a back alley, and Kennedy and Fitzgerald jumped out.

"Wait here," Kennedy said, and she slammed the door. You groaned; the headache you had was causing you to nearly see double, and you shifted, resting your head back on Steven's lap. That, however, was short lived as your passenger door opened an someone grabbed your legs, dragging you out of the car, kicking and screaming as Steven tried to stop it. But without the use of his hands he was helpless to do anything but scream, and you could see Marc dimly in the car door, telling you it was all gonna be ok.

You tried to keep your composure as you were marched along the cobblestones. You had to admit, it wasn't how you imagined a kidnapping. Children were playing football in the street, laughing, and singing, and the people around you smiled friendlily as you were led past them. You dug your heels into the ground and the two people holding you tugged you forward as you saw the man who'd confronted Steven at the museum.

"It's a pleasure to see you again y/n," he said. "Uh, let her go, she can walk," he told the people holding you and they took a step backwards. You rubbed your arms, knowing that if you tried to run away they'd catch you. Them, or the people surrounding you who all had the same scale tattoo. "My name is Arthur Harrow. I mean you no harm. I only have use for Steven."

"You've got the wrong man," you said, instantly protecting him.

"Perhaps. But it seems I can't speak to Marc Spector without Steven Grant being present." You stayed quiet and it seemed to please him, affirm perhaps his suspicions that Steven wasn't just Steven. "I understand you want to protect them," he said, "and I appreciate that. It proves that Marc Spector and Steven Grant are in fact different people."

"What do you want from them?"

"The scarab," he said. "You know of it?"

You figured Fitzgerald would have told him of your reaction, but you didn't have to tell the whole truth. The worry both Steven and Marc showed of the scarab falling into Harrow's hands was enough for you to never tell him that you had it.

"Steven told me he had it," you said truthfully, hoping the scarab shaped bulge in your back pocket wasn't obvious. "In the alps. That's all I know." Harrow studied your face for a minute, and then he held out his hands for yours. You lifted them up and he took them, resting the walking stick he used to walk on his forearms. You watched as the scales on his arm began to move as the stick swung back and forth, eventually settling on a dark green colour. You caught Harrow's eye as the two of you looked up. He looked at you with a kinder expression than he once had.

"There is kindness in you. You're welcome to leave," he decided, letting your hands go, but you shook your head. 

"Not without Steven."

He nodded. "Very well. Please, help yourself to dinner, and I'll bring Steven in shortly."