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tiptapricot · 2 years

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thoughts on the mk boys and their tastes in foods? cuisines, fav snacks, how they might bicker about things, whatever u feel <3

I love talking ab food preferences hehehhehe this kinda ended up being a look at their relationships with food in general as well which was actually rlly fun to explore! (Obvs food talk, as well as talk of the system’s childhood, food sensory issues, and specifically issues with eating due to neurodivergence, not any ED stuff, but still, if any of those r squicks for you 🤙)

Marc

I think Marc’s the most rigid when it comes to his foods. He’s not adverse to trying new things, he just keeps his circles small and knows what he likes

Bar a few specific cases, I don’t think he’s much of a mushy/goopy food person, or a sweet tooth

Soup’s fine (he loves bean soups and soups with meat bc they’re hearty), some puddings, some dips (like hummus and guacamole), but he’s not a huge fan of tomato products in tomato form (pizza is fine, bruschetta wouldn’t be) or things that feel slimy (like pasta with Alfredo sauce, or uncooked beans in sauce)

Some exceptions include Chicago deep dish, star fruit, salsa, and pickled veggies

I think he generally likes crunchy things like chips, carrots, apples, crackers, and more neutral baked goods like breads and bagels. He’s absolutely a bagel with cream cheese on the go kind of guy, nostalgic and tasty (though for his preference the ones in Chicago beat out New York and London any day)

He doesn’t mind sweet stuff, it’s just not his favorite. He’ll have a danish every now and then, maybe a brownie, but it’s just not stuff he actively seeks out

I think he still tries to keep roughly kosher, out of familiarity and comfort and connection, but I could also see him only adhering to certain rules (like no pork but good w cheeseburgers), or it slipping if he’s in deep emotional distress or especially bitter at his parents, but he does try

I think he knows how to cook pretty decently, maybe not top of the line but he can absolutely make a meal, and usually tries to make stuff from scratch to avoid shopping too much. He’s not a huge fan of crowded stores or having to make lists and plan meals, so sticking to basics and stuff he knows, stuff he can make again and again and have as leftovers later, is usually how he likes to do things

He tries to recreate family comfort foods he remembers from his childhood sometimes (like hamantaschen with guava filling, local deli potato salads, their Passover tamales), kind of as a coping mechanism, and it’s never quite the same, but every time he gets a bit closer to whatever dish he’s attempting, it feels more worth it to keep trying

Overall he likes stuff that’s hearty, stuff that he can eat that will last him most of the day. It’s the kind of food he relied on in the military, and when he needed to spend as much time out of the house as possible when he was younger, and it works nowadays to keep the body fed and healthy when dealing with executive dysfunction and memory issues

Having stuff that can hold him over and that he doesn’t have to worry about too much creates a reliable structure he can depend on, familiarity in chaos, and so that’s what a lot of his food choices circle back to

It’s another grounding mechanism for him, another piece of the puzzle and routine

Steven (I will b using American n British terms interchangeably just ignore it)

Steven’s pretty British and snacky with his food, and obviously he’s vegan and keeps kosher, but beyond that he’s not too picky, and isn’t the best when it comes to taking care of the body with food

He likes sweets and fruits and chips, stuff like blueberries and nuts that he can eat absentmindedly while he reads, or that he can stuff in a ziploc and take to work

Crisp sandwiches and beans on toast are big too, and he uses vegan butter and cheese to make them, usually for breakfast or after work, and those are both comfort meals for him, ones that are quick and easy and don’t take much effort

He gets vegan sausage rolls from the store or makes them himself if the premade brands aren’t certified, and he likes those for breakfasts on days off when he can have a bit more of a lazy day in, make some tea, put on a long documentary, hang back with a bigger breakfast, that kind if thing. He makes Yorkshire puddings and hash browns for those kind of days if he has the energy

Yorkshire puddings are also a general favorite of his, and he usually leans into having them more for dessert, with big scoops of vegan ice cream after he’s had a bad day (his favorite flavor is vanilla but he experiments with weird flavors a lot)

Cereal’s a big one too, usually with almond milk and he oscillates between liking sweetened or unsweetened kinds more

I think the spiciest thing he eats semi regularly would be stuff like jalapeño potato chips or slightly spicy veggie dips, he’d probably consider brown sauce kind of spicy, and I think his tolerance is low

Steven also absolutely falls into the neurodivergent trap of food being in the background, something that easily slips his mind, or when it doesn’t, ends up at the mercy of convenience

None of his foods are bad on their own, but the issues arise when all he’s eaten in a day is two pieces of beans on toast and it’s already bedtime, or when he gets so engrossed in reading he doesn’t get up for six hours and suddenly feels lightheaded

He tries his best, he just never thinks about it much and usually falls into things that are quick when he does, which can easily lead to him eating sandwiches and almonds for a whole week

He also has some sensory issues that can muddle things, like a usual go to food being fine one moment and disagreeable to his mouth the next, and if he can’t find anything to eat it’s easy for him to just shrug it off and forget

Reminders started popping up on his phone at some point (totally not from Marc) to check in and make sure he’s gotten some food in him, and those have helped loads, but it’s still not perfect

Post Cairo Marc helps more, checking in with Steven when the body feels funky and usually having the spoons to cook between the two of them, so they end up having stuff available to grab in the fridge when they need. Marc even tries to label the stuff that’s non-vegan as well as which things have meat and which have dairy, and even when their fridge gets cluttered and extremely disorganized the care in it always makes Steven smile

Jake

Jake’s a big proponent of good food

His time in front over the years has been short enough that he always tries to make eating worth it, so he’ll seek out a good solid meal whenever he can

I think he spent a lot of time perusing Chicago and New York’s hole in the wall shops or food trucks, and has a pretty wide taste because of that

He doesn’t really keep kosher? Like sometimes he’ll lean into it if it suits the situation, or pisses Khonshu off, or it feels… right to him, but his relationship with shit is complicated and he fluctuates a lot, and it’s definitely not the defining thing that dictates his food choices

He likes pizza (New York style) and hotdogs (Colombian style, Chicago style, or ones all decked out like wrapped in bacon with carmelized onions, jalepeños, tomatoes, mayo, etc), and is also partial to wet beef sandwiches

Lots of Latino comfort food as well, like chicken pepián, Cuban coffee with sweet bread, Guatemalan empanadas, tacos al pastor, pupusas, etc.

He’s hates eating warm food cold, so whenever he eats Steven or Marc’s leftovers he always has to warm them up, otherwise it hits bad in his brain. He doesn’t have many sensory issues with food beyond that though

He was recommended to Gena’s by some acquaintances in London after hanging around a few bars and clubs with a high Latino community, and her food is the first stuff that really hits for him there. It’s not like it’s the only good food he’s tried in London, but something about Gena’s just clicks and becomes comforting

He also has a pretty strong sweet tooth, and will especially seek out sugar for comfort. He loves tres leches and while he��s also a straight black coffee enjoyer, Gena’s tintos always hit just right. He’s also always down for a classic slice of apple pie a la mode

Even though my take on Gena has her specializing in Colombian food, she makes Jake some of his favorite dishes once they get to know each other better, hoping to bring some of that comfort to the new area. She surprises him with her own take on rellenitos during one particular visit, and he ends up bringing a small take away container of them back to Steven’s apartment because he couldn’t make himself eat them all, and he didn’t want to waste them

He may not have any solid memories of Wendy outside of stepping in to get yelled at when the others couldn’t take it, and he sure as hell doesn’t have any fondness for Elias, but for some reason he can remember how that kitchen smelled, and the sound of the frying pan, and wrapped up leftovers in the fridge, and it’s still important to him and part of him

He scrawls some little note on the top of the take out container with a little “From Mum” to tie it off, and that ends up being enough for Steven not to question where the rellenitos came from when he finds them in his fridge. And he’s so excited!

Jake’s not even mad when he eats the rest of them before he can front next, he’s just glad he got to share a little bit of something that Steven enjoyed :-)

All together

I’ve already talked a lil ab Steven and Marc post Cairo, but I think once all three of them are on functional speaking terms and are cohabiting more, food is very chaotic!

They have to talk about boundaries and figure out what counts when it comes to who’s fronting and each other’s dietary restrictions

Some of the foods Jake likes are too spicy for Steven and some of Steven’s foods make Marc squirm, it’s complicated

Overall though there’s a lot of sharing and talking and bickering, fighting to see who makes dinner or frustration that someone else got to front and eat the last of something tasty, but they make it work

Feel free to add on your own hcs or additions! Or any corrections if something here sticks out as very obviously inaccurate (truly no worries!). Most of the stuff here is from research and friends, so tysm to @scarabgrant n @steverogers-against-disney n others for the food talks we’ve had that helped contribute to this :-)

And a general reminder as well: Stand up, stretch, and rmr to drink water and eat something if you haven’t in awhile! Have a lovely dayyy💖💖🤙

#glad I finished this right before going to get dinner lmaO #tw food #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #gena landers #moon knight 2022 #the fruit is talking again #mikes mk meta #the fruit is answering again

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screechthemighty · 2 years

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*yeets this at the fanbase while we’re all experiencing emotions* anyways I’ve had chunks of this rotating in my brain literally since I started writing the fic, so I’m happy to have it out of my head and in front of your eyeballs! Mild CW but this one discusses loss, grief, and references child abuse, so it’s a bit sadder compared to previous chapters. But there is some comfort, I promise. AO3 link in a reblog, but you can also read it here!

meet me at our spot: part 3/6 (2021)

After the bruise incident, she really shouldn’t have been shocked by anything Jake did. But she had to admit, him showing up with his shoulders dusted in snow and his coat wrapped around the shoulders of a man she’d never seen before was…unexpected.

“Should I call someone?” Gena asked.

“No, no, I’ve got him. Can we…?” He gestured to a booth.

“Yeah, go ahead.” She wasn’t exactly crowded, not with the snow coming down the way it was. “Coffee?”

“For me. David?” The man he was with didn’t respond. “Hey, Davito, you still with me?”

“No,” said the man abruptly. “No, no, coffee will give me a panic attack.”

“All right, all right. Hot chocolate? My treat.”

“...yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Coming right up,” Gena said. She kept an eye on the table as she did. Jake sat on the opposite side of the table from David, holding both his hands, trying to rub warmth back into them. She couldn’t quite hear whatever it was they were saying, but she could make out Jake’s tone: calm, soothing, like he was talking David down from a nightmare. “...okay, two things you can smell,” Jake was saying as Gena walked over with their drinks. “This one’s easy. We’re in a diner.”

“Coffee,” David said without hesitation. His eyes stayed fixed on their hands. They were shockingly blue, almost uncomfortably so. “Uhm. Bread, I think. Little burnt.”

“Bueno, bueno.”

Gena cleared her throat to get their attention before getting too close. “Tried to make sure it wasn’t too hot,” she said as she set the hot chocolate in front of David. “But be careful with that, okay?”

David’s eyes fixed onto hers. “You’re Gena?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

David held eye contact for an uncomfortable two heartbeats before turning his attention to the hot chocolate. “He never shuts up about you,” David said. One pale hand wrapped around the mug. “Seriously.”

“Hey,” Jake said, a little sternly, a little embarrassed. “One thing you can taste, you punk. Carefully.”

David took a careful sip of the hot chocolate. Some of the intensity left his eyes. “Fuck that’s good,” he breathed. “I’m okay. I think. I think I’m here.”

“Atta boy. When did you eat last?”

David took a longer sip of the hot chocolate instead of answering. Jake sighed and glanced up at Gena again. “Do you have anything light? Soup or…?”

“Chicken noodle. Is that okay?” she asked David.

David laughed a bit frantically. “If you bring a trash can with it?” he replied. “Sorry…nothing personal, I just don’t know how I’m gonna react and I don’t want to puke on your floor.”

“I can do that. What about you, Jake?”

“I’m okay.”

David laughed again. This time he sounded incredulous. “Okay, no…”

“Hey, cállate.”

“No, I’m not eating unless you do.”

“Brat.”

“Nosy.”

“Fine, eggs and toast.” Jake’s quiet exasperation was undercut by how damned soft his eyes were. Worried, relieved, too much of both to be really annoyed. “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t be. I’ll go get that for you two.”

Despite their earlier banter, they stayed quiet while waiting for their food. David kept drinking his hot chocolate; Jake drank his coffee much more slowly, carefully scanning David like he was making sure the other man wasn’t about to bolt. Gena came back with the food first, then a small trash can, just in case. “You sure there’s no one I can call?”

“No one who can help,” David muttered into his mug.

“I’ve got him,” Jake said. He finally looked up to smile at her. “You doing okay? How’s the boys?”

“Cold. Not happy winter break is almost over.” Gena glanced out the window and sighed at all the snow. “Hope you two didn’t walk too far in this.”

“Nah, just from the parking spot.” Jake looked back at David and sighed. “C’mon, you’re going to be like this?”

David was holding the bowl of soup close to his mouth while staring intently at Jake. Seemed like he was taking that I don’t eat until you do thing very seriously. Jake rolled his eyes and took a slightly-too-big bite of eggs. “There,” he said around the mouthful. “Eres un dolor en mi culo, lo sabes, ¿verdad?”

“No habla español,” David smirked before sipping from the broth.

“Yeah, yeah…”

They went on like that for a bit, though David’s dogged insistence of only taking a sip when Jake ate something fell away quickly. Soon Gena was looking at one empty bowl, one empty plate, and David falling asleep with his head on the table. Jake used that opportunity to walk to Gena at the counter. “I know, it’s a big ask, but do you mind if I let him rest? Twenty minutes, tops. I just need to get him a room for the night.”

“For you, I’ll make an exception.” Gena lowered her voice, just in case. “Is he okay? Really?”

“He’s…” Jake glanced back at David. The worry returned to his eyes. “...had better days. He’s not a bad guy, really, just got unlucky.”

Gena believed him. It was a common enough story, even before the world went to hell. “There’s people in the city who might be able to help,” Gena said. “I can try to get you numbers if…”

Jake grimaced. “Thank you, but I don’t think he’ll go for it. Burned by the system one too many times. He trusts me and I’m trying to keep it that way.”

“Fair enough. Are you okay?”

He looked a bit shaken, and not just from the cold. He wasn’t even trying to hide it with a smile, which worried her more than anything. “Deja vu?” Jake admitted quietly. “Had to deal with this kind of thing before David. It’s…hard.”

That would do it. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Anything at all?” He shouldn’t have to hold this alone, especially not if it was digging up bad memories.

“You’re already helping.” Jake smiled at her weakly. “At the risk of sounding weird, I can think in here. More clearly than I do out there, anyway.” It was a little weird, but at the same time, she understood what he meant. She felt the same way about her kitchen at home. Things always made more sense in there. “Just need to gather my thoughts and figure out my next move. I could use some more coffee, though.”

“You’ve got it.”

For the next half hour, David dozed in the booth while Jake took to his notebook. He seemed to calm as he wrote, as if getting the problem onto paper was making it easier. Gena kept the coffee coming. Eventually, Jake seemed to return back to his usual confident self. “Figured it out?” Gena asked as he paid.

“More or less. Thanks for letting us stay.”

“Of course.” Gena glanced out the window. “Snow’s let up. Think your luck might be turning around.”

Jake followed her gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

“I get why you like her.”

Jake glanced David’s way. The other man was curled up in the passenger’s seat, Jake’s coat wrapped around his still-too-skinny frame. Jake was going to have to figure out how to get him his own coat without tipping off Marc to the missing money. “What?”

“Gena.”

“Told you she was great.”

“Hmm. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s sad. Like you.”

Jake hesitated.

He thought about protesting, but he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. David…knew things. Jake still didn’t know how, and he wasn’t sure David did, either. But he’d found out about Marc and Steven, knew their names without Jake having to tell them, and that was the tip of the iceberg. It made him a great informant, especially now that he was clean, but it also meant that Jake couldn’t bullshit him.

Instead, though…

“Sad like me. You think so?” Jake asked softly.

He’d caught glimpses of…something with Gena. He hadn’t bothered her about it, of course, but he’d noticed. He just wished he knew what to do. It wasn’t like he could butt in the way he had with David. David was an emergency case (literally, Jake had to drag him to the emergency room first time they met). Gena was a grown woman who didn’t need the local alley cat getting into her business.

(He’d finally had enough free time to watch Aristocats. He just kept forgetting to tell her. Indirectly venting about Khonshu’s bullshit and listening to what was going on in her life always took precedence.)

“Lot of people are sad these days,” David said. He sounded half-asleep, but that was better than sounding like he was dissociating again. “To be fair. But yeah. You two just carry it the same.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

No reply.

Jake waited until they were at a stop sign before looking at David again. “Davito?”

David suddenly sat up. His eyes darted around the car, his hands pulling the coat around himself more tightly. “What…ah, fuck, what happened?”

Ah. Well, at least it hadn’t been an immediate fear response this time. “David zoned out a bit. You’re not hurt. Hey, Jack.”

“Jacob.” Jack stretched out in the passenger’s seat, enough that even Jake could hear his joints pop. “How did you know it’s me?”

“Because you sound like a dollar store Indiana Jones.” A cigarette packet suddenly smacked Jake on the side of the head. “Fuck you, too.”

“Hmm.” The packet lifted itself off the floor. Jack caught it out of the air, took one out, and stuck it in his mouth, grinning smugly. “So, how’s your little hive mind doing?”

“They’re fine. Marc has a girlfriend now.”

“Depressed sad sack Marc got a girlfriend?”

“Hey, you’re not allowed to call him that.”

“Whatever. What’s she like?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t been around her much.” He wanted to. If it were up to him, he’d vet every single person who entered Marc’s life. “Seems all right, though.”

“Hmm.” Jack raised an eyebrow knowingly. Little shit. Only Karami was allowed to give him that look. “Got a light?”

“No smoking in my car.”

“Why do you keep them in here if you’re not gonna smoke?”

“Because I don’t spend every second of my life in this car. And if you ask Cyndi for a light, I’m kicking you out.”

“No, you won’t.”

No, he wouldn’t.

But Jack didn’t ask Cyndi for a light, and Jake had other things on his mind. So, he let the bratty behavior slide. This time, anyway.

The boys were with their aunt. They were probably gorging themselves on pizza and watching two movies before bed instead of the usual one they were allowed. They were taken care of. Gena didn’t have to worry about them.

So why the hell couldn’t she stay focused?

It was a girl’s night. That was the idea, anyway. Her, a few friends from church (her old church, before she switched someplace closer with fewer memories), a couple of their friends, going out to have a few drinks, talk about life, enjoy themselves.

But all Gena could do was stare into her barely-touched Sangria and try to fight off a deep, strange sense of dread. Not dread of something happening; dread of something that might happen. She’d thought it was worry about what might happen to the boys (because it had been like that for a long time, terror gripping her throat whenever they were out of her sight, nearly strangling her a few times), but…no. No, it wasn’t that.

Gena let go of her glass and started fiddling with the ring on her left hand. It felt so heavy there. Was that the problem? Just a general unease that came with having it back on? It had been almost three years…

Cameron suddenly sat down next to her. “I swear, every damn bar I’ve been to lately has been so quiet,” she said. “You’d think people would be cutting loose a bit more.”

Gena hummed in agreement. She was surprised, too. So much of the city was still borderline lawless, with people turning to at least half the deadly sins to cope (or due to the lack of real consequences). Bars seemed ready-made for that kind of behavior, but all she saw here was a barely occupied dance floor and a huddle of people watching a sports game. The sports fan barely made a sound outside the occasional group groan of disappointment, and even the dancers were subdued. Maybe that’s why I feel off. The atmosphere is rubbing off on me. “At least I don’t have to worry about my drink as much,” Gena said.

“True enough.” Cameron’s voice lowered conspiratorially. “Bartender’s kinda cute, though.”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

She might have been overreacting to innocent girl talk, but Gena couldn’t trust it. She could never trust it again. Not when she’d heard that kind of thing before.

You know, my nephew lost someone, too. Maybe you two could talk?

The singles group is taking new members. It might be good for you.

You’re still so young, Gena. And those boys are going to need a father again one day.

That had been the one that finally made her snap. They had a father. They’d had a father for almost ten years. Did people really think she could swap out one man for another? Two years, three years, fifty, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t just act like Mo had never existed, and she’d made that very clear.

This time, she didn’t have the energy. Gena forced herself to look at the bartender. Nothing about him stood out to her, though that may have had something to do with her mental state. “I guess so,” she said dully. No. No, I can’t do this. “Watch my drink? Need the bathroom.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

Gena didn’t stop to analyze Cameron’s expression or tone. She moved as fast as she could to the bathroom. The women’s room was unoccupied, but she still locked herself in a stall. Gena braced herself against the doors and waited.

The tears never came. Instead, she only felt a deep, crushing weight in her chest, the same one from that day three years ago. It had nearly drowned her then. She’d been able to pull herself up with the boys and the diner, with the few things left in her life that still gave her some joy (or at least some distraction), but now she didn’t have that. All she had was grief.

I can’t go back out there.

But she couldn’t stay in that stall, either. She’d probably already telegraphed that she wasn’t happy. Hiding in the bathroom would only make things worse.

Damn it. I didn’t want it to go this way.

Gena took a deep breath. She might not have wanted it, but it was the way things were going. Time to deal with the problem before it dealt with her. At least she had an out. The boys and her had made a pact that could use each other as an emergency excuse. My mom won’t let me or oh, I have something with the boys that night usually did the trick. She’d probably feel guilty about lying later, but right now she just wanted out.

She still stopped to check her expression in the mirror before she left. You’ve gotten too damn good at looking like everything is fine, Gena thought to herself. She’d exploit it for now, but…damn.

Get home. You can cry about it then.

She walked out of the bathroom, plastering a concerned look on her face as she went. Carmen had been joined by a few of the others–Antonia and Tasha. You can do this. “Sorry,” Gena said, sounding a bit more like herself even if she didn’t feel it, “Ricky called. Sounds like a stomach bug. I need to get back.”

The lie slipped out so easily. She probably should’ve been more worried about that, too. She was more worried about the fact that she didn’t think they bought it. No one actively tried to talk her out of it, but Tasha did hit her with the Are you feeling okay yourself, hon? Then again, maybe she thought the “stomach bug” was catching.

Fine by me. It was better than the alternative. Gena did have to talk her way out of being escorted home, but managed to get away before her mask slipped.

Gena made it all the way down the street before realizing she had no idea what to do now.

She couldn’t go back to the diner; she’d taken the night off, and abruptly coming back would just raise questions. She didn’t want to go home either; the boys were with her sister overnight, and the thought of being alone in her apartment terrified her. It would be a haul to get to her sister’s, and on top of that…

Can I face them right now? She didn’t want to burden them with her pain. She’d done everything she could to avoid that. If she saw them now, when it was still so heavy in her chest, she might not be able to avoid it.

Gena kept walking. Maybe all she needed was time to clear her head. The days were getting longer, so she wouldn’t have to worry about nightfall for a while. As long as she kept her head on straight, she’d be fine.

That was the hard part, though. Her thoughts kept racing away from her, chasing after how quiet the streets were, how empty everyone seemed. How unfair it all was. It took the sudden gurgling of her stomach to knock her out of her thoughts. “Well, no wonder you’re such a mess,” Gena scolded herself. “Shoot, girl, get something to eat.”

Fortunately, she didn’t have to walk much further for options. She was a little overdressed for the bodega’s deli, but figured she probably wasn’t the weirdest thing the owner had seen that day. The bodega’s cat, a tiny orange and white thing, watched her with judgmental eyes as she waited for her sub. “My mascara running or something?” Gena asked.

The cat’s tail twitched, both at the sound of her voice and the jangle of the door opening. Whoever walked in caught the cat’s attention; it jumped down from its perch on the shelf and trotted past Gena for the door, meowing loudly as it went. “Chiquitita, que bueno verte!” said a voice Gena recognized immediately. Sure enough, it was Jake Lockley who straightened up, holding the cat in his arms. The cat purred so loudly even Gena could hear. “¿Has atrapado muchas ratas hoy?”

“Ella no ha cogido una maldita cosa,” said the owner. “¿La misma orden?”

“Solo los cigarrillos…” Jake did a double-take as his eyes slid over her. “Señora?!”

Gena was suddenly much, much more aware of how overdressed she was for the location than she had been. Not too much–it had just been some drinks with the girls, not a visit to a five-star restaurant–but he’d only ever seen her in her work uniform or jeans and a t-shirt. The yellow dress she was wearing then wasn’t her nicest one, but with some jewelry and make up, it was a whole lot dressier than usual. “I know,” Gena said, “bit much for a bodega run.”

“I mean, world’s gone tits up, might as well.” His smile lost a few watts as he looked at her. “You…okay?”

Damn it. The mask must’ve slipped. It had been so easy to let go when it was just the cat watching her. “Night didn’t go how I wanted,” Gena said.

“...didn't go how…did you get stood up? Do I need to hurt someone?”

He was audibly trying to joke, but something in his eyes said he was a little serious. That, strangely, broke her walls down more. “No, it’s…a bit more complicated than that.”

Jake’s smile faded. He nodded, carefully examining her face, barely seeming to notice as the cat meowed at him and bumped her head against his chin. After a second, he turned to the owner. “Oye, Artie, pon eso en mi cuenta, ¿quieres?”

It took Gena a moment to mentally translate. “Oh, no, Jake, you don’t have to…”

“It’s okay. I owe you for letting David sleep at the diner.”

That was months ago, Gena thought. She almost said it aloud, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the earnest look in Jake’s eyes; maybe she couldn’t help giving in to the craving for some kindness in this damn world. “Well…thank you,” she said. “Really, thank you.”

“Of course.” Jake smiled at her briefly before turning his attention to the snack aisle. He had to shift to holding the cat in one arm as he started grabbing items off the shelves–Takis, a bag of lollipops, mazapan. “What’re you drinking?”

“Surprise me. I trust your judgment.”

“I accept the responsibility.” Jake carefully deposited the cat back on the shelf, pausing to let her bump her head against his. “Lo sé, yo también te amo.”

Gena was starting to think Jake was actually a cat in a human body. It’d sure explain a lot.

In the end, he grabbed two bottles of vivid green soda and paid for everything in cash. “No te metas en nada de lo que no puedas salir,” said the cashier, presumably Artie.

“Puedo salir de cualquier cosa,” Jake replied with a grin. He stopped to give the cat one last kiss on the head before holding the door open for Gena. “Mantente seguro.”

The smile fell off his face once it was just the two of them out on the street. “Do you need anything?” Jake asked as he handed over her food. “Is there anything I can do?”

He was looking at her the same way he’d looked at David–like he’d move the whole world if she asked him to. Gena’s instinct was to brush it off, try to act like everything was fine, but…

Damn it, she was so tired of carrying this around on her own.

“Nobody did anything,” she said, just to clarify. “Some friends invited me out, girl’s night kind of thing, and I thought I’d be ready for it. But there’s…”

Gena hesitated, her thumb brushing over her wedding ring. She might not have wanted to carry this alone, but she didn’t think she was ready to reveal the whole load, either.

“...parts I wasn’t ready for,” she said finally. “And I’ve already had to explain that to one too many people. I didn’t want to do it again, so I left. No one’s fault.” Just a whole lot of shit timing. “I’d go home, but the boys are with my sister until tomorrow, and I don’t want to go back to an empty apartment, so…now I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Jake nodded, muttering something under his breath to himself. She could hear the gears turning in his head as he stared just past her ear, digesting everything she’d said. “Okay,” he said finally. “How do you feel about foriegn language films?”

“Haven’t seen enough to have an opinion. Why?”

“Because I was headed to see one and I wouldn’t say no to some company.” Jake looked at her more directly. “For the record, you wouldn’t be inconveniencing me. I like this one and I’d like to show it to you. You don’t have to worry about bothering me, so…if you’re really not interested, you can just say so. I won’t mind.”

Despite that reassurance, Gena still caught herself hesitating, mulling the option over. It definitely was a solution. Sure, she’d never spent time with Jake outside the diner, but…

Screw it, he’s already seeing you have a bad day. Might as well.

“What movie are we seeing?” she asked.

And that was how she found herself sitting on a dollar store blanket at the park while an animated Japanese film played on an inflatable screen. Howl’s Moving Castle, apparently. The boys were starting to get into anime, but she’d never heard of this one. Gena wasn’t sure what to expect going in, but…

It was nice. Nice like watching her favorite movies on a Saturday back when she was a kid. She couldn’t tell how much of it was the movie–the beauty of the animation, the sweetness of watching the little family start to form under unlikely circumstances–and how much was the heady relief of finally feeling relaxed, but she enjoyed herself regardless. She enjoyed herself enough that she almost forgot she was there with someone.

Jake stayed on his own side of the blanket and didn’t talk; the few times Gena glanced his way, his eyes were fixed on the screen, a slight smile tugging at his lips. One time they happened to glance towards each other at the same time. Jake’s smile widened; it was only then Gena realized she was smiling, too.

“What’d you think?” Jake asked suddenly and eagerly as the movie wound up and everyone around them started leaving.

“It was good!” Gena said. “It was. I really liked it. It’s weird, though, I’ve got this urge to clean my place now?”

Jake laughed. “No, I know what you mean. You know the animation’s good when it makes cleaning romantic.” He started gathering up their trash. “And that breakfast. The eggs almost look as good as yours.”

“Never heard that one, but I’ll take it.” The eggs had looked good. “I like Sophie.”

“I like Sophie, too. She reminds me of my brother Steven.” Jake gave Gena a careful hand up. “They’re both tougher than they realize.”

He walked her almost the rest of the way back to her place, chatting about movies–the one they saw, other ones by the same studio. He was trying to figure out how to bribe a friend of his into watching Porco Rosso, had been for years, but it feels like we only hang out when it’s work-related. He stopped mid-sentence to abruptly ask how the boys were doing, looking almost embarrassed he’d forgotten. She told him they were doing fine. Enjoying school more than I thought they would.

She wanted to take that as a sign they’d be okay. She really did. Fortunately, talking to Jake drew her away from that line of thought before it got too deep.

Good as it was to see him, Gena’s self-preservation kicked in before she got home. “I’m not too far away,” she said. “I’ll be all right from here.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Thank you for everything. I…I really needed that.”

A night out without expectations. Just the chance to have fun and not think about all the shit the world had gone through lately. All the shit she had gone through lately.

“Any time. I mean, any time I’m in town.” Jake suddenly looked self-conscious. It was a look she wasn’t used to seeing on him. “I’m gonna be for a few more days, I think. If there’s…anything you need while I’m here…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's the least I can do. Todos para uno, uno para todos, ¿no?"

That felt like a lot more than a lighthearted, if cliché reference. She got the feeling he was trying to tell her something more but wasn’t sure how to say it. He had that move the world look in his eyes again, even if it was a bit hesitant. Like he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to it.

Gena couldn’t blame him for that. They’d definitely crossed some kind of line that night–not the line, of course, they’d never be crossing that. But…

No. He wasn’t just a regular anymore.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Gena said, stepping closer and holding out her hand, “on the understanding that it goes both ways. Whenever you’re in town and whatever you need. Deal?”

Jake looked at her hand, then made fleeting but meaningful eye contact. His face opened up, the hesitancy giving way to a genuine, warm smile. “Deal,” he said, shaking her hand. “Goodnight, Señora.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Lockley.”

Contrary to what she’d said back at the park, Gena didn’t really end up cleaning her place when she got back home. She did tidy up a bit–picking up a few things that she’d been content to leave out of place until then, loading the few dishes that lingered in the sink, putting away the makeup she’d left on the counter in her rush to get out the door. It took a bit more effort to also take that makeup off, but she didn’t need to contribute to stress’s war on her skin by not keeping it clean. She’d be back to her acne-ridden teen years if she wasn’t careful. On the plus side, washing her face made the rest of her routine seem easy in comparison.

She still hadn’t taken off her wedding ring by the time she was in bed.

Gena started at it through the moonlight filtering in through the blinds. It made the silver seem almost luminescent. “You’d like him,” she whispered. “I really think you would.” Mo liked almost everyone he met, but someone like Jake…

Yeah, they would’ve gotten along.

Gena cradled her left hand against her chest and closed her eyes.

Next thing she knew, it was a new day.

Gena wasn’t behind the counter when he showed up that night. Instead, he spotted her sitting in one of the booths with her boys.

He hated the fact that his first instinct was quiet dread.

Jake had seen her with Ricky and Ray before, of course. They were usually there when he came in at nights during the school year. Gena was always good with them, and they weren’t afraid of her. Well-behaved, sure, polite when they weren’t interrogating Jake about whether or not he was flirting with their mom, but it wasn’t the nervous, unwilling obedience of a kid trying to survive.

He knew a thing or two about how that looked.

It was a relief to see her boys be kids–complain about schoolwork, drag their feet about cleaning up, mumble the odd complaint under their breath–without the kind of harsh reprimand he still braced himself for. He hated that Wendy still had her grips in him like that, that he still searched for danger in every child he saw (in every slightly older little boy with a little brother who still looked to him for guidance). He especially hated that he was on guard for it now, with a woman he actually liked. Maybe even trusted. Gena was kindhearted, a good woman, but that didn’t stop the fearful child in him from worrying.

You never knew what tragedy would do to someone.

Jake tried to keep his eyes on his notebook. It didn’t work. He kept watching them as subtly as he could. Ricky was building something with play-dough and sticks; Ray, meanwhile, was showing Gena something from a book. He couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about–it sounded like something from a movie–but Gena was listening attentively. She looked…

He didn’t want to brag, because there was really nothing to brag about. Jake had learned to read people, to peel back the obtuse levels of facial expressions and societal norms, because he didn’t have any choice. Knowing what people might be thinking kept Marc and Steven safe. (Kept him safe, too, but he’d always been able to take a punch better than they could, so their safety was the more important goal.) Even as an adult, it meant he was good at gauging people’s threat levels.

There was no threat there.

The sadness still lingered in Gena’s eyes as she watched Ray skim the pages, but only when he wasn’t looking at her. Even with the edges of that pain, she looked…relaxed? Jake had to mull over that one for a bit, trying to figure out why it was so familiar.

Then it hit him.

They were fifteen. Marc hadn’t been having a great week. He’d shut down pretty much the second he heard Wendy start screaming, leaving Jake to race them up the stairs. He probably could’ve hidden in their room–he knew Wendy well enough by then to know that she was too drunk for the stairs–but he’d had enough. He might not have known what, specifically, had made Marc so much worse this week, but he wasn’t going to let it stand. He’d rummaged around their room, grabbing a handful of their squirreled away cash and taken the window to get to the street. Elias wasn’t home, making it easy to start walking towards the deli Marc liked so much. He hadn’t been sure it would work–it was a trick he’d tried before, to mixed results–but this time, when he let himself slip back, when Marc took his first steps and realized where they were…

He went inside. He got himself a sandwich and a soda and had dinner in the back corner. Jake watched it and let the mixture of his and Marc’s relief lull him back into their mind. Everything around them might have been horrible, but this…this was safe. They were safe. Even if it was temporary, the pain was outweighed by the normalcy. Just a sandwich in a deli.

Just two boys getting to spend time with their mother.

Gena kissed Ray’s forehead. Jake had to look away and breathe through a new, harsher knot in his chest.

He tried not to think about that one.

The dropping temperatures of autumn always made her feel safe. In her experience, it was the heat of summer that brought out the worst in people. Once the days got shorter and people started spending more time indoors, she didn’t feel quite so tense. Sure, the world was never completely safe, but she worried a bit less that the kind of crime people like Daredevil fought off would come to her doorstep.

Then one late autumn morning, she came to open the diner and found the glass door smashed.

Gena froze. The scene felt so unreal. She knew she should do something, but her mind stalled out, reality blurring around her. She didn’t realize she’d started walking forward until a hand grabbed her arm and started dragging her back. “...no, I don’t know if they’re still inside…Gena, don’t go in there.”

Mohamed was on the phone. He was the one holding her arm. The other cook, Bill, hovered nearby, jumping from foot to foot as he watched the door. Gena’s mind raced as she stared at the shattered glass. How badly had the diner been damaged? What could they have taken? She’d done the bank dropoff recently, but there were other things, things that people might try to resell, and her front door was broken. They were in her space, whoever they were.

How could this happen? Who would do this?

“The police are on their way,” Mohamed said suddenly. “They said not to go inside.”

“I locked the safe, right?” Gena said, or thought she said.

“You always lock the safe and it’s bolted to the floor. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t believe that. She didn’t believe it for a second. They’d been in her space. They might as well have broken into her home.

Is this happening? Am I having a nightmare?

No. It was real. This was happening and she had to deal with it. She tried to tell herself that, tried to force through the fog that shrouded everything in that veil of unreality, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything but stare.

The police showing up jarred her out of it–or, at least, it turned on the autopilot part of her brain that knew the bare minimum of what had to be done and started doing it. She spoke to the police, answered their questions. She called the rest of the staff to let them know they didn’t have to come in today. She fended off the handful of regulars who showed up, letting them know that the diner might not be open today. No, she didn’t know when they’d be open. Yes, she was okay. It felt like hours before the police finally let her in, though she wasn’t sure how long it really was.

Going back inside nearly made her shrink back into herself again. The inside was a mess. Broken glass from the door, things knocked over and broken, probably by accident. They’d mangled the register getting into it, and scratched up the safe and the floor around it trying to get in. Bill was cursing up a storm; Mohamed, meanwhile, only surveyed the scene with quiet frustration. “...least I don’t leave my fucking knives here,” Gena heard Bill say as she stood in her office. “Who the fuck steals a skillet? And how’d they get cans out without being spotted? Can’t go to a fucking food bank, you’ve got to…”

“Bill,” Mohamed said quietly.

“...oh. Shit. You okay, Mrs. G?”

She hadn’t realized they were staring at her until then. “I’m fine,” Gena said. She needed to do something. Anything. “I’m gonna start…start tidying up. Maybe we can still open…”

They couldn’t and she knew it, but her mind still clung to the hope that this was fixable. That they could just tidy up and re-open and pretend everything was fine.

That didn’t happen.

It wasn’t just that dealing with the police had taken hours, cutting through breakfast and pushing into lunch. Every attempt at cleaning only uncovered new problems, new things missing that they’d need. The walk-in freezer had been left open enough to make her worry about the food kept close to the door. A lot of the pantry had been taken. The missing odds and ends added up more and more. They couldn’t get the register to work and to top it all off, the stove was acting up. That probably had nothing to do with the theft; the stove had been acting up for a while. But it felt like a slap in the face on top of everything else.

Billy bit back his curses and did his best to try and work on the stove. Mohamed checked in on her occasionally, quietly asking if she was okay, no matter how many times she insisted she was. She had to field a few more calls, a few more curious passers-by. Pretty much everyone said the same thing: Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Let me know if I can help.

Gena wasn’t the type to turn down help usually, but today their words felt like a mirage. She felt so detached from everything. Even with people actively there, actively helping, she felt so alone. It didn’t help that she never really got to see the boys. She had to call her sister, ask if she could get them from school and look after them for the night. Ray had video called her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Gena was surprised she made it through the call without scaring either of them, but…maybe that was part of the autopilot, too. One of the things she was supposed to do. Protect her babies, shield them from all this.

Even if that meant closing herself off from them a little bit.

I may not be home in time for bed…listen to your aunt, do your homework…yeah, I’ll be back before school tomorrow. I love you…

She just hoped they didn’t see how numb she really was.

Eventually, the inevitable hit. They definitely weren’t going to be able to open, not today, maybe not even for a few days. “You two can go,” Gena said. “Don’t worry, I’ll…I’ll count all this as work done today…”

The cooks exchanged a glance. They hadn’t been working together long–Bill was one of the newer hires she’d taken on after half the planet vanished–but it hadn’t taken them long to get on the same wavelength. “Are you sure?” Bill said carefully.

“I’m sure. Really, go home. We can figure this out tomorrow.”

Mohamed gave her a look next, one she recognized immediately. “You’re going home too, right?”

Damn it. She’d known the man for years, but she still hated how perceptive he could be. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said. “Just need to finish cleaning up in my office.”

It wasn’t a total lie. She had…kind of planned on leaving at some point. She knew she should. All that was left to do was make sure there was nothing valuable left and get out of there.

But once she finally convinced Mohamed and Bill to leave, once she was really and truly alone, Gena couldn’t make herself leave. Not even for her own good. Not even to get home to the boys. She puttered around the same spaces as the sun set, tidying things that didn’t need tidying, staring at all the things she couldn’t fix. Frozen.

Afraid that it would all get worse if she left.

She was back in the dining area, just standing there, when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was standing by the door, staring in with a shocked expression. For a long moment, she didn’t recognize who it was. Then…

“What happened?!”

Jake. Jake? When had he gotten back? When had he grown facial hair?

Again, Gena moved by auto-pilot, walking to the door to let him in. The longer she looked, the more she recognized him…same eyes, same hat, same dark hair curly poking out from under it. She’d never seen the leather jacket before, but it was the mustache more than anything that threw her off. “Are you hurt?” Jake asked once he was inside. “Who did this?”

I’m not hurt. I don’t know. What the hell is that thing on your face?

She opened her mouth to say one of those things. Maybe all of them.

What came out instead was a sob. Every tear she’d held back, knowingly or unknowingly, suddenly came flooding out of her. “Gena, Gena, hey…hey, easy…” Jake’s hands rested on her shoulders; without thinking, she leaned into the touch and against his chest. Any other time, any other day, she wouldn’t have done that. She didn’t know if he wanted to be touched like that, she had no damn clue, but she wasn’t thinking straight. She just…hurt. It all hurt, so damn much. Worse than it had when he’d found her in that bodega a few months ago.

Fortunately, Jake didn’t flinch away. He wrapped his arms around her carefully. “Hey, hey. Te tengo. Estoy aquí.” His voice was calm, soothing, like he’d done this before, and his embrace was gentle and warm. “Está bien. Shh…”

She thought the tears would never stop, but eventually, they did. Her first thought when her mind finally stilled was that she’d never heard him call her Gena before. Just Gena.

Her second: Damn it. I cried all over his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled away.

“Hey, don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jake kept his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t mind. It was the only thing keeping her present. “Here, sit down, I can…get you water, or…” He looked around. The slow realization on his face of how bad it really was nearly set her off again. “What can I get for you?”

“Uhm. There’s water bottles in the fridge.” They hadn’t taken that, at least. “Just…don’t mind the mess. It’s been a day.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

He came back with two bottles of water. They sat in one of the corner booths, Jake facing the door, Gena with her back to it. At least from here, she didn’t have to see how bad it all was. “What happened?” Jake asked after she’d had some of the water. “If you’re up to telling me…”

Gena sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t. They just…came after we closed. They were gone by the time I got here. The police are looking into it, but I don’t know…”

Didn’t know if she’d get any of her stuff back. Didn’t know how long it would take to fix this. Didn’t know how.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” she admitted. “I thought I had this, but it’s all just…” It’s too much. It’s too much. I can’t do it, I never could, I was stupid to think I could. “Shit.”

She pressed her hands against her eyes, hard enough that she saw stars. At least she hadn’t put on makeup this morning. She would’ve really been a wreck if she had. Jake’s careful hand on her forearm drew her back, but it didn’t stop the fresh wave of tears. “Hey,” he said gently, “of course you have this.”

“I can’t do it on my own.”

“You’re not alone. I know you’re not.”

“No, that’s not…”

It loomed over her, then. The thing she’d never told him about. The thing she’d barely spoken about to anyone for three years. The thing that, she now realized, had wrapped itself around her throat from the second she saw that shattered door. This wasn’t just inevitable because of the crime around the city. It was inevitable because…

You could never do this without him.

“...that’s not what I meant,” she said. “I…”

Gena took a second to compose herself. She could have let it drop, but…

No. She couldn’t. Not tonight.

“...I need to…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be right back.”

Jake stayed where he was, but she could feel his worried eyes on her as she walked back to her office, to the desk and its locked drawer. That drawer had been forced open, the papers inside ruffled through, but the thieves hadn’t touched the framed picture at the bottom.

Thank God they hadn’t. She would’ve had this meltdown a lot sooner if they had.

She carried the picture back to the booth, sat down, and held it out to Jake. It was of the outside of the diner, back when it had first opened. She was there, the younger version of herself, standing between Mohamed and…

“I was married before,” she said. Her hand shook as she tapped the figure to her right. Dark skin, going through his afro phase at the time, brown eyes and the most dazzling smile. “Mortimer Landers. Mo. This place was…ours, you know? Our dream. He dragged his buddy Mohamed into it after his restaurant career didn’t pan out, and…” Gena pulled her gaze away from the picture to look around the diner. “This was our place.”

Jake nodded. He held the picture with the same care he’d held her. “Did he…” He hesitated. “Did he…go missing? Like the others?”

“No.” This was the hardest part, but she pushed on. “But…half the drivers on the George Washington did. That’s a lot of cars without drivers. There was a massive pileup…” Her breath caught in her chest as she said the next words: “It took them three days to pull his body out.”

Jake inhaled sharply. She could see him putting the pieces together: the bitterness around Valentine’s Day, the fact that she would’ve shut him down if he’d been flirting with her, the things she wasn’t ready for, the wedding ring she didn’t wear until it was necessary to ward off interested men. Not a messy breakup or a divorce.

Something a lot more final.

“Gena, I am so sorry.”

She’d heard those words before, thousands of times. Somehow, it felt different when he said it.

“…I thought about closing the place down, you know? With the world being what it was, with him gone, I wasn’t sure if I could keep going. I needed to provide for the boys…but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to…” To kill him again. “Mohamed said he’d stay. I thought I could make it work. I really thought. But it’s been so hard, and now this…”

A slap in the face. Or maybe a sign.

“This is all we’ve got, and I can’t even keep the place from being robbed. And I don’t know what we’re gonna do…” It really was all they had. God only knew how long it would take her to find another job if this didn’t work out, if they had enough money to last until she did, how the boys would handle losing the one thing they had left of their father. “I’m failing them. I…”

“Hey. No, no, no, no, that is not true.” Jake took her hands, holding them tightly. “You are not failing those boys.”

“They’re at home while I’m here having a mental breakdown, how is that not…”

“Gena.” He squeezed her hands tightly. “Listen to me. Those boys love you, okay? And I know how much you love them. I can tell. I’ve seen failures before and that’s not you. Shit, if my mother were half the woman you are…”

Jake stopped suddenly. His gaze darted away as his eyes squeezed shut. The gesture was defensive, like he was bracing himself.

Gena didn’t like that look.

It was over quickly. Jake took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look at her. “You had something unimaginable happen to you,” he said finally, “and you’re still…good. That is not failure. You just need some help. Nothing wrong with that.” He said it so earnestly, so fiercely, that Gena actually believed it. “Look, I don’t know the first thing about diners. I don’t know what it’ll take to fix this. But I will do what I can and I will stay here all night if that’s what it takes. Whatever you need.”

Her chest felt tight again, but this time for completely different reasons. It wasn’t from the gaping hole of her grief. She didn’t feel whole or full, but…something had slotted in to make it a little less empty.

Maybe it would be enough.

“I don’t know where to start either,” she admitted.

“Well, lucky you, I’m good at planning.” Jake smiled, gentle and genuine. “No problem’s too big that you can’t break it down. That’s the first step, right?”

She could have told him to leave, could have insisted that she leave the way she’d insisted Mohamed and Bill leave, but…

For the first time, this all seemed manageable. She wasn’t floating on autopilot. She was sitting in the diner booth, Jake’s hands holding hers, present and there. It was a problem. A problem she could maybe fix.

A problem she could definitely fix with some help.

“Okay,” Gena said. “Okay. But, uhm…” She cleared her throat, trying to force her mind into business mode. “...if we’re gonna do this, I think we’ll need some coffee.”

“Yeah. Definitely need some coffee.”

She got the coffee on, and then they got to work.

Jake wasn’t exaggerating; he was really good at breaking down a problem. It involved one of his notebooks and a lot of lists, but the more they looked at the problem areas and figured the next steps, the less overwhelmed she felt. It didn’t take her long to start taking the reins more. Jake stayed at her side, doing whatever she asked without question. Turned out he was pretty good at taking inventory, too.

“Okay,” he said at one point as they compared her last food inventory list with their new inventory. “Before we get too depressed, is there any upside to this?”

Gena sighed heavily. “I mean. Guess most of what they took needed to be replaced soon anyway. And…” Despite herself, she smiled. “You’ll be happy to hear we still have eggs.”

Jake grinned back. “Well, thank God for that.”

They had to stop for a break eventually, and the thieves had left behind enough food to make a few sandwiches. A second bit of luck. “You should let the boys help pick out replacement stuff,” Jake said as they ate. “They might like that. Being involved in the process and all.”

“Yeah, probably.” She’d been meaning to let them into the business side of things if they wanted, thinking maybe it would bring them closer to Mo, but she’d never been able to figure out how. It could be a good place to start. “He would’ve liked you. Mo, I mean.”

“...you think so…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was…an old soul. Guess that’s what happens when you name your kid Mortimer.” Gena chuckled. “So he would’ve liked your style. He loved a good hat, too. Though, speaking of, I’ve gotta know…”

“You’ve gotta know about the mustache?”

“Yeah, what happened there?”

“I wanted to try something new. What do you think, not working for me?”

“No, no, actually, it suits you.” She meant that, too. It had been a bit of a shock at first, but now that everything had settled into place, it definitely suited him. “I like it.”

She’d never seen Jake look so pleased.

They kept working. Even as it got late, so late it was probably the next day, something kept Gena going. Maybe it was the coffee, or Jake’s enthusiasm, or the momentum of finally feeling like they had the problem under control, but she was going to stick with it for as long as she could. They worked on reinforcing the front door. They worked on tidying things up some more. At some point on a whim, Jake started working on the stove. Gena helped. It was stupid, and she knew they’d probably need a real mechanic, but it was one thing that was bugging the hell out of her. A problem she’d put off too damn long. No time like the present to try.

“Okay, so, I think that looks right.” Gena compared the image on her phone screen to the repairs they’d made. It really was amazing what you could find on the internet. “What do you think?”

“Yeah…close enough to hold until you can get a pro in here, anyway.” He wiped some grease off his hands, staining the front of his shirt. He’d had to strip off the leather jacket and his hat to work; somehow, his hair had gotten even curlier the longer he worked. “Do you want me to try it?”

“Might as well.” The prospect made her stomach twist, but…well, better to know than not. “Just don’t burn your hand off.”

“I’ll be fine.” He straightened up and took the knob. “You wanna say a prayer? I forgot all of mine.”

“Oh, Lord, bless this stove?”

“Good enough.”

Jake carefully turned the knob. The stove clicked once, twice, then as the knob was fully turned…

Fwoosh. Right to life on the first try.

“Yes!” Jake yelled. Gena yelled, too, wordlessly, thrilled. It was a simple thing, and a temporary stopgap at that, but damn if it didn’t feel like a win. She hugged him again impulsively; he hugged her back, actually lifting her up a bit in his excitement.

“Thank you, thank you…”

“Hey, I’m just glad that worked,” Jake said as he put her back down. The hug lingered for a moment longer before Jake cleared his throat and looked away. Gena was caught off guard by the look on his face when he did. He was smiling, but he almost looked overwhelmed.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

“Me? I’m…” Jake ducked his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…really good, actually.”

There was something else there, too. She could tell. But whatever that undercurrent was, he was smiling–not the forced smiles she’d seen on his face before, but something genuinely happy.

He’d tell her on his own time, she figured. No sense in picking at his wounds before he was ready.

“What time is it…?” He pulled away to check his watch, then did a double-take. “Ah, fuck.”

“What?” Gena looked, then winced. “Well…”

All night. They really had been there all night. A look out of the kitchen confirmed it. The sun was rising. She still had a few hours before she had to get the boys to school, at least. “You want some eggs?” she asked.

“I could eat. Sure.”

They had eggs and toast and one last cup of coffee each. Jake volunteered to stay with the diner, just to be sure no one tried anything, but there was no way Gena was going to let him do that. He’d already done so much, and he looked bone-deep exhausted. He wouldn’t be talked out of walking her home, though. This time, they went all the way to her doorstep.

She figured he could be trusted with that.

“If there’s anything else you need…”

“You’ll be around, I know. How long?”

“I’ll let you know when I do.” He yawned noisily as she pulled out her keys. “Ah, lo siento, hermanito…”

“What was that?”

“Just thinking out loud.” He shrugged. “Tell the boys I said hello?”

“I will. And hey, even if we’re not open today…you can stop by if you’ve got time. Okay?”

“Might take you up on that. Sleep well, Gena.”

“You, too.”

Still no señora, Gena noted as she watched Jake walk away. Seemed like they were on a purely first name basis now.

She didn’t mind. It felt right.

Gena managed to get back up to her apartment and inside without waking her sister (fast asleep on the couch) or the boys (both still in their beds). She watched them both sleep for a bit before going back to her room to finally get changed.

She’d sleep for a little, get the boys to school, and then figure things out from there. Make the right calls to get the door fixed, set up something to fix the stove permanently. Start replacing things. Get them back up and running. Even if the police never found whoever had stolen from her, she’d start over. She could.

She really believed that now.

He knew he needed to sleep. Marc needed it, if nothing else. They had work to do while they were here, and they wouldn’t be able to get it done if the body was sleep-deprived.

But Jake couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

He paced around the hotel room, running the events of the night in his head over and over. He kept catching glances of himself in the mirror. Marc hated the mustache. He’d only kept it for this long to be sure that the bastards in Sweden that had spotted him were thrown off the scent. It wasn’t worth revealing himself to convince him to keep it, so Jake accepted the fact that it’d be gone soon.

Instead, he imprinted the memory of how he looked in his mind as clearly as he could. Clothes he’d picked while he was fronting and stashed with David for the next time he was in the city. Facial hair he liked. And…

He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself, as if he could push the memory of Gena’s hug into his skin and keep it there. No one had ever hugged him before. They’d hugged the body while he was present, but whoever it was always thought he was Marc. No one had ever hugged…Jake.

Not until today.

He knew he needed to slip back. Marc had work to do, and a girlfriend–no, a wife, Jake was still getting used to the change–to get back to. Steven needed to get his handful of moments in the sun. The body needed rest.

But he stayed up, basking in the joy of being Jake Lockley until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

#moon knight #gena landers #jake lockley #this is really long I didn't realize until I pasted it here LMAO #fic: meet me at our spot

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