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gupaooooon · 11 months

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Does Jake Lockley dream of Randall Spector？

#moon knight fanart #jake lockley #randall spector #mcu #moon knight #fanart #my art

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age-of-moonknight · 5 months

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“Vengeance Never Dies,” Moon Knight: City of the Dead (Vol. 1/2023), #5.

Writer: David Pepose; Penciler: Marcelo Ferreira; Inker: Jay Leisten; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Moon Knight: City of the Dead #Moon Knight comics #latest release #Moon Knight #Marc Spector #Mr. Knight #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant #Randall Spector #Scarlet Scarab #Layla el-Faouly #Khonshu #aaaaaayyyyy let’s go #really appreciate the usage of the vol. 2 armor with all the bling #let Steven flex his wealth even while in the suit

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haliaz · 2 years

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Marc sketches. The second one features Wendy and Randall :D

#moon knight #marc spector #wendy spector #randall spector #my art

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why-i-love-comics · 5 months

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Moon Knight: City of the Dead #5 - "Vengeance Never Dies" (2023)

written by David Pepose art by Marcelo Ferreira, Jay Leisten, & Rachelle Rosenberg

#moon knight #marc spector #shadowknight #randall spector #marvel #wednesday spoilers #spoilers #comic spoilers

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comicwaren · 5 months

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From Moon Knight: City of the Dead #005, “Vengeance Never Dies”

Art by Marcelo Ferreira, Jay Leisten and Rachelle Rosenberg

Written by David Pepose

#moon knight: city of the dead #moon knight #marc spector #scarlet scarab #layla el-faouly #khalil nasser #khonshu #chainsaw #plasma #leila o'toole #black spectre #carson knowles #jackal knight #randall spector #osiris #marvel #comics #marvel comics

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ladywynne · 7 months

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Travelers of the night are well protected by Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley. So lock your doors, grab a cuppa, and enjoy these spooky stories.

There's something for everyone here. Whether you are looking romance or angst, ghosts or witches, the stories below have them all.

🦇 let us waltz for the dead - by snapdragonpop007 - Dracula AU with the perfect dark vibe. On AO3 here.

👻 Spectors are Ghosts Too - by AuthorLoremIpsum and ButterflyBeeStevenwithaV - Marc died at that digsite and Layla buried him, but avatars are spirits brought back from the dead. On AO3 here.

🧹 Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare - by RebeccaOTool - MK/Hocus Pocus crossover. On AO3 here.

👻 in memory of - by Pokimoko - Marc holds on to what haunts him. On AO3 here.

👻 Spectre - @ivystoryweaver - A story about love lost, or is it?

👻 Riding with Private Spector (on AO3 here) and sequel We Haunt Ourselves (on AO3 here)- I humbly submit my own ghost stories.

🎼 BONUS: Spooky instrumental playlist to set the mood while you read.

#mk halloween rec list #recommendation list #moon knight #fanfiction #marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #jake lockley #hocus pocus #randall spector

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moon-mr-knight · 14 days

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Difference between the Moon Knight series and comics

Warning: violence

You know what’s weird? That they decided to make Jake Lockely more violent than Marc Spector when literally Marc Spector used to carve crescent moons into his enemies’ faces. He also has cut off one of his enemies faces and held his skin over his own face as he looked into a mirror completely unhinged. (Pretty sure it was Bushmans face).

He also stabbed Midnight through the head with a clock hand after Midnight tried to remove his vertebrae with a pair of pliers. Then when Bushman was revived Marc impaled him with a machine gun.

Marc has cut Deadpool into pieces with a blade that made Deadpool have to be surgically stitched back together. He has fought and beat to near death almost all the Avengers then proceeded to steal their powers all in the name of Khonshu. Moon Knight also caught and held Thor’s hammer then used it to kick his own ass.

He cut his own brother’s throat out, Randall Spector after being deceived into thinking he was ‘Khonshu’s chosen one’ it made him feel special so Randall created the persona ‘Shadow Knight’ and went on a killing spree trying to go after his brother, forcing Marc to kill him.

In my opinion the ‘Moon Knight’ series didn’t do Marc justice, now don’t get me wrong I still did enjoy it but…the comics are my babies. I just don’t think they gave Marc enough credit, yet with like a handful of scenes Jake Lockely is the most violent?

Here is one of the comics of the crescent moon carvings:

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marcskywalker · 2 years

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decided to ruin my day by thinking about how young randall was there in that room full of people marc killed, implying that he genuinely believes that randall's death is on his hands. and not in a distant "there must've been something I could've done to avoid it" kind of way, but it is a more direct responsibility that he feels, like "I killed him. My actions cause his death. I drowned by brother"

I think, initially, Marc must've only felt that distant responsibility but then Wendy threw accusations on him everyday for years, and there is only so much a young mind can take from a maternal figure before accepting it as fact.

So he starts questioning himself about the rest of Wendy's accusations. Was he really jealous of Randall so much? Did he hate him?

But no, he loves his brother, that much he knows to be the absolute truth. So he comes to the conclusion that there must be something deeply wrong with him, that he killed the person he loved the most.

And I think a lot of this is also reflected in Marc's relationship with Steven. He truly loves Steven, which is why he wants to stay away. He wants to protect Steven from himself, because if they get too close then Marc will kill him.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

#marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #repeat #He's trying so hard to not his mistakes #to try and be better brother.#he literally begs steven to #give me the body I won't let us die #he wants a chance to himself #redeem #next session will be about how being a big brother was a big part of how marc identified #and how randall's death took that title away from him #and he had noone or nowhere to go for comfort #basically that quote #if my brother dies am i still a brother or does that part of me die too #randall spector #meta

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tiptapricot · 1 year

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Word count: 6,210

Summary:

Happiness (noun)—Any state of being, having considerable permanence, in which pleasure decidedly predominates over pain.

Marc Spector has not had an easy life. But through all of it, there is joy that perseveres.

———

YAHOO!! I’m back baby! Tysm to @pericynth for requesting this piece, and to @fdelopera for beta reading and editing. You are both absolutely lovely and I’m so happy we got to create somth :-D

#moon knight #moon knight 2022 #marc spector #layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley #randall spector #marclayla #the fruit is talking again #my fic #my-fic #hewwo first fic of the year #and it’s ab autism baybEEEE #get lasered #really though this process was a strange one bc I’ve been dealing w a lot that’s really put my brain into a funk #but I’ve been able to heal n grow and get space and finally complete this!#I’m so happy with how this turned out and really proud I got to create it so I hope y’all enjoy it as well 💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕#happy 2023 and joy to all of you forever n always

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lollipencil · 6 months

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Finally Found

Ok, so this just drop kicked me emotionally. And then gave me an idea. So now, I'm going to wring every drop of angst possible from it :)

Enjoy and be gentle. ---

Randall experienced it in an instant. He was cold, so cold that the fact he couldn't breathe no longer mattered. And then he wasn't. He had been curled up on the grass somewhere close by in his new body.

It had been a Liepard who'd found him and explained. "It's a rare thing," he said, "Sometimes, humans die, but instead of moving on to where ever it is they go after, they are reborn as ghost types." A Yamask, that's what he was now. His old face forever memorialised.

But all he could think about was Marc.

What happened to Marc? Did he die, or did he make it out?

In the end, Randall's mind was made up. "I'd still be careful," Liepard warned just before Randall left, "It takes time for a human to become a ghost type. You should be prepared for a very different person than when you were alive."

Naturally, the first place he checked was their house. And received the biggest shock possible.

His dad had grown old. And the rest of the house was empty. No mom, and no Marc. "No much to see kid," came a voice from behind. Turning, Randall saw it was a Shuppet. "Most of the despair and pain's left this place, ever since the female human died. There is only regret here now."

Randall didn't like the implimcations of that, but he pressed on anyway: "I'm looking for my brother." The Shuppet's eyes drifted to his mask. "Oh. You're a Reborn. And you use to live here." The Shuppet's expression shifted to something unreadable. "I don't know much, but I know who does."

With little else to go off of, Randall followed the Shuppet away from his home. They wove through streets both changed and brand new until they came to an abandoned warehouse. Inside, was a little village.

Shuppets drifted to-and-fro around decorated milk crates. Long strips of fabric drapped over anything that stood tall and stable, creating little "rooms" that they would huddle in for sleep. Under a large tent on the furthest wall sat a Banette watching over the whole space before focusing on them as they approcatched. "Dad," the Shuppet greeted, "This kid's, um, I think he's- He lived in that house when he was-" "Oh," Banette understood inspite of the incomplete explanation, "Ok then, follow me lad."

Randall followed him into a small greenhouse, in the corner of which was a set of chairs. "Now, then. Where should we start?" Banette opened as they both sat down. "What happened to Marc?"

"I don't know everything that happened. Only what I could see. First imee I was at that house, it was a funeral of sorts, yours I suppose. There was a boy there, tried to come down. But the woman ignited in fury and grief, and sent him away. Everyday from then on, she would torment the boy for the littlest reason. I tried to get some others to help me absorb all that negativity, but the very sight of us made it worse."

Banette looked close to tears. "We could only watch as this cycle continue for years with minor, equally terrible differences. Until they reached the age of maturity and finally left. Until earlier this year. The woman died. And they came back. Couldn't make it to the door and left."

Randall didn't want to believe it. It had to be wrong. How could she? "Mom hurt Marc? And Dad didn't stop her?"

Banette shook his head, and Randall wept. ---

It had been two months since then. The idea of returning to that house, to a dad who'd looked away from Marc when he'd needed him most, was nauseating. So, Randall had stayed with them. He had a milk crate close to Banette and a small wristband collection. And the desperate wish to see his brother again.

It was two months after finding out, when the dream occurred.

A vast busling city was all around him, the people constantly moving. Voices blurred into one noise, faces of both people and Pokemon blending together.

And, at the centre of it all, was a figure dressed in bandages. A floating bird skull on top. The figure turned its head and pointed somewhere to Randall's right. Turning he saw the British Museum, as clear as day, the moon casting deep shadows over the pillars at the entrance. "Go," a voice boomed from all around, "you shall meet them there."

With a gasp, Randall's eyes snapped open. The younger Shuppets that had huddled around jolted away. "I need to get to London."

---

Getting to London was surprisingly easy. The more independent over-seas delivery services had a unoffical agreement: help with their deliveries, and if there are no issues that could occur from doing so, they would ferry any pokemon who wanted to travel.

The Corviknight had stared down at Randall while her trainer checked the list of allowed species, not unkindly but very intently. As soon as the human nodded, she relaxed. "Welcome aboard little one," Corviknight had pointed with her beak to an empty section occupied by a pillow.

The trip was longer than expected, but Randall was too occupied by his thoughts to notice. Something that Banette had told him before leaving had stuck with him: "When I first left to get help, I noticed something had changed when I got back. I wasn't gone for any longer than a few minutes, but it was enough that... Somehow one soul became three." The question of what that ment continued to trouble him until they arrived. Then it was swiftly overtaken by another concern.

How to get to the British Museum.

He knew how to find Big Ben, that was easy. But the rest of London was an tangle of streets and houses and shops, crisscrossing like veins.

But Randall refused to give up. Learned the layout of each street, each landmark. And finally found it.

---

The moon was full as Randall swooped down on the massive building. A pair of Munna twirled in the air above, laughing to themselves. Otherwise, it was utterly silent.

Randall crept across the courtyard. His eyes darted around for any trace of, anything really. A footprint. A item of clothing. Then came a voice. When Randall was right up to the door, a faint murmuring could be heard. Pressing up further, he could make out two voices. One human (obvious because that he could not understand them), and the voice from his dream.

"There is still a matter to attend to," the voice spoke to someone. The other person sounded irritated. "On the contrary," the voice purred, "I think you'll like it. All of you." The other muttered lowly but didn't appear to object.

Suddenly, a giant bird skull clipped through the door and stared at Randall. "Well? Are you coming?" the skull asked, the door swinging open slightly with a soft click. With a small amount of hesitation, Randall squeezed himself through.

The entrance inside was already big, but the main hall further in outclasses it instantly. A massive tower stands in the exact middle, a spiraling staircase following up to the top. Little sections around the edge of the room occupy the otherwise empty space between doors. And standing between the tower and the entry doors is a figure.

Clothed in white bandages like the lead in a mummy movie had walked stright off the set, with a hooded cape shadowing their face as if to show off the wide glowing eyes underneath. Somehow their breaths were audible even from where Randall was floating. They were clearly trying to say something but couldn't quite finish their sentence.

The bird skulled figure appeared at Randall's side. "Before you ask, no this is not a trick," he said, seemingly to them both, "it's really him." The implication clenched around Randall's heart: "Marc?"

The figure before him froze. Suddenly, the hood flopped down and the mask unrevaled. Even as glowing eyes dimmed, even aged past what he last saw, Randall knew that face. "RoRo?" Marc's voice preached the language barrier with ease. Tears filled Randall's eyes and, before he knew what was happening, he was in his big brother's arms.

He gripped linen covered armour as he wept from sheer joy. He could feel each shuddering gasp as Marc too wept, falling to his knees. But he daren't let go. Neither dared.

Eternity fluttered by, and they remained. Then Marc stiffened. The suit seemed to rearrange itself, bandages tidying themselves up and turning black. Blinking in surprise, Randall looked up. The face was still Marc's but it wasn't him. Someone else looked down at him with tears in their eyes.

"One soul became three."

Randall reached up and cradled their cheek: "Hi." The other soul shakily held Randall's hand, rubbing his thumb gently back and forth. An equally shaky smile appeared shortly before the suit changed oncemore.

The third, dressed in a three-piece that glowed, didn't try to fight the tears. He just held Randall like he was spun from glass. Eventually, the third pulled his jacket off and wrapped him up it. It was so warm. Randall nuzzled down into it. Slowly and smoothly, the third rose to their feet, holding him close the whole time, and they left.

For their new life together.

#my fics #crossover fic #moon knight (2022)#pokemon #randall spector #khonshu #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant

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gupaooooon · 7 months

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「Trick or Treat, Dr.Steven Grant！」

ロロとスティーヴン

（2022年のHalloweenにTwitterに投稿していたもの）

マークとロロがTomb Busterごっこをする時。いつもマークが博士役で、ロロは博士役をあまりやれなかった（やりたかった）んじゃないのかな……とあの描写からは感じるので。ロロに博士の仮装を。

2人の Steven Grant。スティーヴンが見たただの夢。

#steven grant #randall spector #moon knight fanart #moon knight #mcu #fanart #my art #halloween

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little-cereal-draws · 2 years

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ok after several hours of processing how perfect it is, I've finally cumulated my thoughts about this post by @drifting-pieces-blog-blog into something kind of coherent

aka how jake was formed

#i've been working on this for three and half hours and u can see me start to lose steam lol #but this was too good to pass up #there are some frames here i really love and some... i dont' lol #it's just been a jake kind of day #tw drowning #my art #marvel #mcu #moon knight #moon knight art #moon knight fanart #marc spector #randall spector #Jake lockley

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writers-blogck · 2 years

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Three Little Adventurers ( Marc Spector x Sister!Reader )

Warning(s): Spoiler(s) for Moon Knight, Marc Spector Backstory. If you know, you know and that means you know what to expect from this. That's all I'm gonna say in order to not spoil anything for anyone else so: Marc Spector Backstory is its own warning. Title: Three Little Adventurers Pairing: Marc Spector x Little Sister!Reader , Platonic/Familial Fandom: Marvel , Moon Knight Word Count: 3,418 ♡ Sometimes you should listen to what your mother tells you ♡

What kind of little sister wasn't annoying and tried to follow their older brothers with everything? It had been no different that day. Would it had been different if you had stayed with your dad and helped him build the shed? Kept coloring instead and finished your own fish that Randall had drawn for you? To this day, you couldn't help but wonder that on late nights when your only company was a bottle of red wine.

Shoving your little feet into your yellow sunflower sandals, you quickly ran after your older brothers, stumbling on a root before finally catching up. Your mother always told them to include you when they went off to play, even if you were just five. You tended to be happy as long as you were with them and they gave you some type of task, even if it was a stupid one. Randall tended to be nicer than Marc. Marc liked to mess with you, you were pretty sure it was just because he was taller and could put things on the counter where you couldn't reach them.

Marc and Randall were already at the mouth of their little hidden cave when you caught up. Something had crunched under your feet when you had been running to catch up but you hadn't stopped to check. Panting, you grabbed Randall's arm as a silent plea to slow down. It had begun to drizzle and with the fraying straps on your sandals, it would be easy for you to slip. It didn't help that you tended to be clumsy, to begin with. It wasn't rare to find bandaids and bruises covering your arms and legs. Mom wouldn't be happy if they brought you back with a new wound collection to show off.

The seven-year-old wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the oldest of the three of you got ready to enter the cave. Marc was the bravest of the three of you. He had been the one to find the cave, to begin with. He said he had found it all on his own and then brought Randall.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? Mom doesn't want us to be playing here when it rains...She says it isn't safe." Randall glanced up at the sky, the slight drizzle running down his cheeks but it seemed like nothing. It barely was enough to make your clothes wet. That was how you remembered it, just a drizzle. You wouldn't have been dumb enough to go in if it had been raining hard, would you?

"I bet it's gonna stop any minute. You know how it rains." Marc shrugged, hopping down the hole and turning to face the two of you. As Randall continued to doubt if they should play in their make-shift tomb, you happily toddled forward. Out of your two brothers, you tended to be closer to Marc simply because he was the eldest at the age of nine. This obviously made him the coolest in your baby head. It was ironic because he still messed with you the most. In reality, you were close to both of your brothers but would always look to Marc for an answer first before Randall.

His hands gripped under your armpits to lift you before helping you down, something he was used to doing. It was only recently that they had begun to allow you down here with them. You had been too young before and would just end up getting hurt. Mom would just end up getting mad and yelling at Marc, even if Randall was there as well. Marc didn't think that was fair...Why did he have to watch out for you alone? Randall was your older brother too...He never got yelled at.

The two boys bickered a little longer before Randall finally agreed and the adventure could begin. Off went your little party, Dr.Steven Grant and Rusher. Randall would always suggest you be the female character in the movies but you never agreed. Instead, you always said you wanted to be the animal companion, your favorite was a monkey. They at least got to go to the temples and pyramids. The ladies always just fell over a lot. That's what you thought anyway. Even if there wasn't an animal companion, you made one up. If they said no, you would just whine until they gave in.

"What are you gonna ask for your birthday, Marc?" Randall asked, hands clenching and unclenching next to his sides. He was getting anxious or still was from outside. Maybe it was the dark? You weren't sure, it didn't bother you as you lead the boys through. You still had the stupid kid armor in your head.

"Mom said she has a surprise for Marc." You chirped.

"Do you know what it is?" The eldest asked.

"Yup."

"Don't tell him what the surprise is." Randall hissed, pushing your shoulder gently causing you to whine.

"I wasn't gonna..."

"Anyway," Marc interrupted, walking in between his two siblings, arms folded behind his head. He was staring up at the rock ceiling even though he couldn't see the details as he had handed Randall the flashlight to light the way forward. Sure, it wasn't smart to give the one in the back the flashlight but eh, who cares. Not Marc. The two of them knew the cave enough to walk it blind and to be honest, there was no way to get lost. You just kept going forward until you couldn't anymore.

"I was thinking about a grappling hook."

"I don't think mom is gonna get you one of those." Randall narrowed his eyes in thought as he moved the flashlight, allowing you to see the tunnel to crawl into the cave. You still thought this place was amazing and the two boys had convinced you Ancient Egyptians really had been here, even if you were living in Chicago. They told you that Egyptian Gods had created this hidden cave with secret instructions and had drawn hieroglyphics on the rock with a permanent marker. Most of them they had made up but either way, you still bought it with your tiny brain. You believed that the three of you had been chosen by the Gods for a special mission and that you just had to figure out what these hieroglyphics (picture words as you called them) meant and then they would come to do.

By the time the three of you were into the cave, the water was enough to create a small puddle-like lining on the ground but even then, you didn't think anything of it. You were all too busy with your conversation about birthdays and gifts. It was always exciting when a birthday came around, your parents were great with them, especially your mother. She would make a whole deal about one of your birthdays and it was just lovely.

When you looked back at this time, it was fuzzy on how it got from point A to point B. You remember running your hands over the pictures on the walls, chatting about birthdays, and then you were standing in ankle-deep water with more rushing in with every passing second. It didn't seem like it should be possible for it to fill up as quickly as it was, the cave was so much bigger and the walk was so much longer, wasn't it? Children's minds can be a funny thing. Things can seem so much bigger than they truly are.

"Marc, I think we need to leave." Randall was the first to bring the present danger up to the eldest brother. In truth, Marc had been thinking it but wasn't sure how to bring it up without making you or Randall freak out. Plus, it was just a little water, you would be fine, right? That was what he kept telling himself. You just needed to leave now before it got worse.

"Yeah, mom will be wanting us home anyway." He tried to keep his voice calm as he walked to the hole that you had to crawl through to get into the cave. What he hadn't expected was the force at which the water was coming through said hole. It was like the rapid rides at an amusement park. There was still a bit of it that wasn't underwater but it wouldn't be like that for long.

"I'm cold..." You whined, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to lift your feet out of the water but no matter what you did, you couldn't escape the rising tides. That was what it felt like. Randall stood next to you, resting a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to keep you calm but you think now that it was just as much to keep him calm. You didn't judge him. You wished you had hugged him one more time...

"I can't do anything about that." Marc kicked at the hole, trying to test how harsh the water flow was. Would he be able to get through? He could and Randall, but what about you? Maybe the two of them could get to the other side and go get help. He was the fastest of the three of you but he also was the strongest. His mind was torn.

"The water is getting in here too fast," Another whine from the tiny sister. You weren't necessarily afraid of the situation yet but annoyed. It was hard for your brain to comprehend what was happening. You hadn't thought anything bad could ever happen to you. You were just a kid.

"It's okay." Randall ran a hand through your hair, eyes watching Marc with nervousness.

"I want Mommy...!"

"Shut it, I'm trying to think, okay?!"

This was enough to silence you, hands gripping at the denim overalls you had on. It wasn't normal for Marc to yell at you. Sometimes he would raise his voice but he never yelled. That was enough to bring tears to your eyes and the fear of the situation just added to it. It obviously was the stress of the situation but that didn't make it any better. You couldn't help but let them fall and run down your puffy cheeks.

Marc was having a hard time thinking with all of the noise. The water, both of you talking, his own heart beating in his ears, it was all too much! He felt like he couldn't breathe and that air was already beginning to deplete even though he knew that couldn't be true, could it? He didn't know, he wasn't good at science!

"Marc, I can't swim!" You were panicking at this point, crying as any five-year-old would. You were tiny, having been born early and it made you a bit underdeveloped for your age. The doctors said you would catch up by your teen years but as you stood with the water rising, already reaching your small hips, it was becoming increasingly clear that you were in a dangerous situation you couldn't save yourself from. This time your squeal didn't annoy him and instead brought him out of his thoughts. How long had he been thinking? How much time had he wasted?

"Right, don't worry, it's gonna be okay. I promise." Marc felt his chest tightening in panic. Even as the oldest of the group, he still was only a nine-year-old in such a traumatic situation. He had never been taught what to do in a situation like this. His parents told him what to do if a fire started or if a tornado happened but not if he was trapped in a cave when it was flooding! Heck, he even knew what to do with quicksand before flooding! Thanks, Dr.Steven Grant!

He had to calm down, he was your older brother and he promised he would keep you safe when you were born. He promised he would keep both you and Randall safe. He had to keep you safe. He had to keep Randall safe. He had to keep you safe. His younger brother seemed to have the same determined look in his eyes in saving his little sister but Marc was able to see past that into the fear. It was obvious. He was terrified.

"Randall, point the flashlight down at the hole, I need to go through first, and then when I go through, your gonna come through next, okay?" He pointed in your direction, "I'm gonna help pull you through from the other side. This way, you don't have you swim at all, got it?"

Both of you nodded at this plan. It wasn't like either of you had a better one. You were wailing like any normal child and Randall was only keeping it together for you. Marc kept telling himself that he was the older brother and he had to act like it. That was the only thing pushing him forward like this. Maybe he was crying and he just couldn't tell. All he knew was that he couldn't stop moving. The water sure wouldn't.

Getting back through the small opening between the tunnels was much harder now that water was pouring in, pushing in the direction he was coming from. It was trying to keep him from moving forward and he had a hard time not swallowing any of the water with how hard it was coming down. This wasn't going to be good for when you had to come through. Either way, there was no choice, you had to. This was the only way out, that cave was a dead end. It had candy wrappers and other little pieces of junk from the three of you as you had claimed it as almost a clubhouse. You had never been there before when it had rained that hard...You should have listened to Randall in the first place.

"Randall, help her through," Marc shouted, unable to see his siblings. His instinct was to keep going until he was out himself but he ignored it, staying with his feet planted. He tried to block as much water as possible as you basically were passed through from Randall to Marc. It was hard to not scrap your arms and knees when getting you through but there were bigger issues to deal with at the moment. A little few cuts bleeding didn't matter right now. You didn't even seem to notice them as your entire body was now covered in water, head to toe.

"Okay, just wait here for a second." He picked you up fully, turning to set you behind him. The water was at your chest now, meaning it was at Marc's waist. He knew that they didn't have a lot of time to waste.

"Randall, come on through now, I can help you."

Nothing but splashing from the other side. It was obvious Randall was doing something but the two of you couldn't tell what it was. Either way, it wasn't enough to get through. You think he slipped and was pushed back by the force of the water.

"Randall!" Marc was shouting at the top of his lungs now, the type of scream you should never have to hear. It would haunt your nightmares to this day. It was the guttural type that was filled with raw emotion and emotional damage. His dark eyes were wide as he desperately went back down, attempting to open his eyes under the water to find his younger brother. He could see the light beam but with how quickly the water was pouring in at this point, it was impossible to see Randall. If he wasn't careful, he would get pulled back through himself.

"Just grab my hands and I'll pull!" With one more shout, Marc went back down and with his eyes shut, blindly reached forward through the opening. When he felt his younger brother grab ahold of him, he tried to pull him through, even pushing with his foot against the cave wall. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get him any closer to safety.

"Marc!" As he came back up for air, he found you flailing to keep yourself above the water with how rough it was. It was rising quickly and it was far too fast for your tiny body to fight against. If he didn't help soon, you would get sucked under and wouldn't come back up again. His heart was racing a mile a minute and he didn't know what to do. It hurt and he just wanted an adult to decide for him. He didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted help.

"Go Marc, I'll get out on my own! You have to help Monkey first!" Randall yelled from the other side using their nickname for you. His voice was muffled from the rock between the siblings and the water rushing down like an impromptu river but you still could hear him clear enough. The two of you never expected those to be the last words you would ever hear from your brother. Deep down, you think Marc was afraid they were but was in denial.

With a nod to nobody in particular, Marc lifted up your now-soaked body and helped you cling to him like a koala. He might be bigger than you but it was going to be hard for him to get out by himself, nonetheless with your weight added to his. He didn't have a choice, he had to, or else you wouldn't make it. Still, why of all days did you have to wear denim today?

"I'll be back!"

To this day, you regret not saying anything. Instead, the last thing your brother heard of you was your frightened cries as you were carried away by your shared older brother. You were the reason that he couldn't be helped. If you hadn't been there, Marc could have saved Randall. That's what you told yourself twice every year.

With that final promise to his younger brother, Marc began to trudge back up to the entrance and back out into the daylight. The water was pushing against him with each step but he refused to be toppled over. He had to get to the top, he had to get you out. The rain was an entire storm by the time the two of you were out of the cave and he couldn't help but wonder what your parents were thinking.

As soon as the grass was surrounding the two of you again, he dropped you down to your feet. It was at this moment you realized that at some moment in the cave, you must have lost one of your sandals. Stupid weak straps! You could feel the wet grass beneath your toes and while that may have felt nice in any other circumstance, you could only focus on how cold you felt even in the heat of the day. How had today started off so nice and now...?

"You need to go get mom and dad now," Marc grabbed your shoulders, shaking them enough to break you out of your terrified trance. You hadn't stopped crying but were able to pay enough attention to look up at your brother, the rain mixing with your tears. "Okay?"

All you could do was nod as an answer. Turning around, you began to run back in the way of your home with one less sandal and one less brother than when you had started with. The fear was pulsing through your veins so hard that you didn't even feel the broken bird bones that sliced through your bare foot as you ran as fast as your little legs could carry you. To this day, you have a scar on the bottom of your foot where it was cut open.

By the time they got to the cave, all they could see was Marc staring at the water and your sunflower sandal floating where the entrance of the cave used to be.