The Silence You Create (Moon Knight, Marc)

[Wolfwings22]

I’m still on my Moon Knight kick and I found this prompt and knew that I wanted to do a story like this with Marc as I can see him trying to be a tough guy and struggling with it, especially when he becomes agitated with his own sneezes. I hope you all enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompt—sick person sneezing into a blanket or pillow so they don’t wake their sleeping partner.

 

 

 

 

 

    Marc wakes up feeling like he was hit by a truck and just can’t stop sneezing. He doesn’t want to wake Layla beside him, and does his best to stay quiet.

 

 

 

    

    Marc rolled over in Layla’s bed and saw the digital alarm clock practically glaring at him. Only ten minutes had gone by since he had last checked, though it had felt like a lifetime.

 

    “Damnit,” Marc grumbled to himself, rubbing the side of his hand against his stuffed up nose. It was so blocked that he was doing the majority of his breathing with his mouth open, stealing greedy gulps of air while trying to pass any air through his nose, which was utterly impossible at the moment.

 

    ‘Why does this always get worse at night,’ Marc thought bitterly. ‘I just want to sleep and it’s keeping me up.’

 

    Marc lowered back down and pulled his pillow to his face, swallowing a cough that threatened to bubble from his throat. If only that was his only problem. Keeping himself from coughing was something that he had learned and mastered long ago. Countless attempts to learn how to hold his breath for as long as possible had taught him how to keep that feeling from blossoming into something more most of the time. However, that wasn’t the most aggravating symptom that he was fighting against at the moment.

 

    Just when Marc thought he may start to drift off yet again, a deep, aggravating itch took up residence right at the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t too incessant to begin with until Marc became aware of it and tried to lift his wrist to give a few greedy rubs. That sent the slight tickle into something that couldn’t be ignored, and his eyes began to shut. His breath quickened and hitched as his chest sucked in a sudden deep breath. Desperately, he pulled his pillow completely over his face and curled to the farthest side of the bed, willing his body not to make a sound.

 

    “Hih’Hrshmp! Hih’HrcshShrmp! Hih’HrcSHmp!”

 

    Marc did his best to muffle the sound in the pillow, but he was well aware that the bed still shook. He sniffled heavily and drew as still as possible, holding his breath even as he felt his nose running.

    

    ‘C’mon,’ Marc thought as he lifted the back of his wrist to rub at his nose once more. He could just feel how clogged his nose was thanks to the small fit, which he feared would not be the last time he sneezed that night, not even close.

 

    He had always been a person who sneezed in short fits when he was sick. It was infuriating really, and nothing he did could stop it from happening. It tended to be worse in the mornings and at night, as though his body was exhausted from fighting it during the day and decided to slowly let go. His sneezes also were far from quiet, which was a problem in and of itself. When he was by himself it was a frustrating annoyance though not horrible. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone and that meant that being quiet was imperative.

 

    Marc thought about going to the couch instead so that he wouldn’t wake the sleeping Layla beside him. However, just getting up and out of bed may wake her anyway. His best bet was to stay where he was and hope for the best. If he continued on like this he may be forced to leave, but he was really hoping that sleep would claim him before he had to. It was so warm and comfortable next to Layla and it brought him peace to know that she was sleeping soundly beside him.

 

    He took in another breath and was forced to duck forward. This time his pillow wasn’t the first thing his hands grabbed, but the comforter. He forced it against his nose and pinched his nose closed, eyes jammed shut and watering. “Hih’Hrcxxh! Hih’Hrchxxxh! Hih’Htrchxxxh! Hih’Trhchxxh!”

 

    The next fit of sneezes had been more silent than the first group of muffled ones, but they hurt more as well. When he finally released his nose from the death grip he had on it, he winced at how clogged with congestion it was. It was running as well, and no amount of sneezing would persuade him to wipe his nose on anything besides his sleeve. Even that was grosser than he wanted to be. He feared that the choice would be decided for him if this kept up.

 

    Marc let out a watery snuffle just as he felt the bed dip as Layla turned over and stretched. Marc laid completely still, struggling not to react as Layla threw her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, her head nestled against the back of his neck. Ordinarily he couldn’t have be happier to have Layla snuggled against him, yet this was not one of those times.

 

    Part of Marc wished he could just switch with Steven; perhaps he would have better luck with dealing with the constant itch in their nose. There was serious doubt that Steven would fair much better, and besides, Marc didn’t feel right about forcing his alter to wake up because of something so trivial. Steven wouldn’t have asked the same of him, so Marc decided he would have to suck it up.

 

    Marc closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing through slightly parted lips, hoping that if no airflow moved through his nose, perhaps he wouldn’t cause himself to sneeze. It was pretty far fetched if Marc was being honest with himself. It had never helped thus far considering how sensitive his nose became when he was sick. Still, he would do anything if it meant that Layla would be able to stay asleep for longer.

 

    A grating tickle leapt in the back of his sinuses where a few stubborn rubs at his nose wouldn’t even touch. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to delay the inevitable only for an ill timed hitch of his breath had him helplessly ducking into the raised blankets again, unable to grab his nose, and fearing that even if he did these would be too strong to stifle.

 

    “Hih’TrhcSH! Hih’TrhcSHsH! “Hih’TrhcSHs!” Marc fought to stay as still as possible as the powerful sneezes took hold. Despite his best attempts, his shoulders still shook and he could feel Layla stirring against him, no doubt shaken awake by the force of his sneezes. “Hih’RHcsHs! Hih’TrchsSH! Hih’TrhcSHS!”

 

    Marc was left sniffling in the aftermath, his nose running and making a mess of his upper lip. He brought his collar of his shirt up over his nose in an attempt to rub it dry only for his nose to catch him off guard once again. “Hih’TrhcSSH!” The final sneeze scraped the back of his throat like sandpaper and left him coughing, unable to ward it off as he had been doing for the majority of the night.

 

    “Hmmm, Marc,” Layla mumbled tiredly. She pulled her arms from around her lover just as he scrambled to sit up. His feet hit the floor hard and he rushed to the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

 

    He didn’t close the door, but he did grab a huge handful of tissues from sin die and brought them up to his nose, pitching forward into them so harshly that it bent him at the waist. “Hih’RchsSH! Hih’TrhcSHSH! Hih’RchsHSSh!”

 

    If Layla wasn’t fully awake before, she certainly was now. She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed, subsequently reaching over to grab a remote to turn the overhead light on.

 

    The brightness of the light was daunting for Marc even as he had bigger problems. His massive sneezes had decimated the tissues in his grasp, and he had been forced to dispose of them and grab a new handful, well aware that bits of the old tissues were stuck to his fingers. It wasn’t the first time he wished that his sneezes weren’t so powerful, but it was certainly at the forefront of his mind at the moment.

 

    “Bless you,” Layla exclaimed as she drew closer and leaned against the outside doorframe of the bathroom. “Those were some sneezes. Got the itch out of your nose now?”

 

    ‘If only it was that simple,’ Marc thought bitterly, the tissues brought back up to his nose to honk into it a few times. There was no point in being quiet if Layla was already awake. Might as well make the most of this time and try and make sure that he wouldn’t need to have a fit like this for the rest of the night.

 

    Marc continued to rub vigorously at his nose, working it back and forth to fully scratch that itch. When he was finished, he threw the tissues away and immediately turned to wash his hands in the sink. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have cared about being this hygienic, but with Layla so close, he didn’t want her to catch what he had.

 

    Curious eyes seemed to bore into him as Layla padded closer still, leaning against the inside doorframe leading into the bathroom. Her arms crossed over he chest, face unreadable.

 

    “Sorry I woke you,” Marc murmured as he lifted his arm to cough into the crook of his elbow. They were deep, thunderous sounds that brought with them the feeling of something leaping into the back of his throat. Marc would be damned if he coughed that up in front of Layla, and decided on merely swallowing it and grimacing at the taste.

 

    Layla waved him off. “It’s no problem. Think there’s something in there bothering your allergies?”

 

    Marc’s gaze hardened as he glared at Layla, top lip twitching. “I don’t have allergies,” he corrected fiercely.

 

    If Layla picked up on the sharpness on Marc’s tone, she didn’t show it. She merely invited herself into the tight bathroom, sliding behind Marc and coming to stand on the opposite side of the shower. “I distinctly remember you sneezing your head off when we were on that mission and we came across that grove filled with cats.”

 

    The mention of that memory had Marc’s nose twitching. He lifted his fist and vigorously rubbed back and force fiercely, feeling his nose strain with the pressure he was putting it under. It did little to nothing to help with the building itch, but he would be damned if he had another sneezing fit with Layla a couple centimeters away from him.

 

    Layla watched curiously as he ducked his head into the collar of his shirt and trembled. “Hih’TrhcsShSh! Hih’RchsShSh! Hih’TrchsHs! Hih’TrchsSH!”

 

    When Marc finished, a wet spot showed on his shirt. He pulled it down from his face and readjusted the shoulders, knowing that his nose was threatening to run, and yet he was too exhausted to process it.

 

    Luckily for Marc, Layla was very observant and reached to grab a few squares of toilet paper and handed it over. She watched as Marc rubbed under his nose before blowing sharply. He discarded the makeshift tissue and stood over the sink, hands clutched on both sides as he coughed heavily, head bowed forward. Sweat was already beginning to soak through the back of his shirt, allowing it to cling to his taunt muscles.

 

    Layla came up behind him and began to pull at his shirt. Marc began to fight her until she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. He immediately relaxed and allowed Layla to remove his shirt, giving a nod of understanding as she threw it on the floor to wash later. She turned him slowly to face her so that she could get a better look at him.

 

    His nose was red and clearly irritated, filled to the brim with congestion. He was forced to breathe through his mouth, which looked as though it took everything out of him to do so. His face was pale, the bags under his eyes more pronounced. A faraway look appeared in Marc’s eyes as though he knew he was there, but not really. Layla worried that he may be trying to disassociate. She hadn’t heard a mention of Steven and wondered if he was even aware of what Marc was going through. It would be like Marc to hide this from his alter just so that he wasn’t in any discomfort.

 

    Layla reached up a hand and swept a few stray, curly locks from Marc’s forehead. “How about we get back to bed,” she suggested gently.

 

    Marc bowed his head, shaking it stubbornly. “I’m just going to keep you awake.” He grimaced, lip curling in distain. “I think I might be coming down with something.”

 

    In all the years that Layla had known Marc, never once had he openly admitting so casually that he wasn’t feeling good. She usually had to pull it out of him, watch him work himself to the bone until his body could no longer keep up with him. She wasn’t sure if this was a testament to their growing relationship, or whatever he had going on with Marc that he was more open. Either way, Layla enjoyed this new side of Marc. Now this was something that she could work with.

 

    Layla drew closer still and brought her hand down to touch two fingers to his forehead. “You’re not too warm. I don’t think you have a fever.” She brought her second hand up and pressed gingerly on either side of his face, under his cheek bones before migrating them inward until they were pressed on either side of Marc’s nose.

 

    Marc bucked back so fiercely that Layla almost stumbled backwards too. Just when she was about to ask if it hurt, Marc spun away from Layla and ducked his head into the crook of his arm. “Hih’TrhcSSH! Hih’RchsHSSH! Hih’RchsHsSH! Hih’RchsHsSH!” Marc was left almost dazed by the ferocity of the fit. His head gave a few stubborn shakes as he sniffed heavily, wincing at how little it did to help things.

 

    Layla was ready with more toilet paper and handed it over. “Bless you.”

 

    Marc grunted and tried to clean himself up. He threw the saturated paper away and turned back to the sink to wash his hands. At this rate he should’ve just slept in the bathroom so that he would wash his hands constantly. They were already beginning to feel dry, but it was inconsequential compared to the soreness in his throat or the pressure that was traveling through his sinuses.

 

    “You should’ve said something earlier if you were feeling this poorly,” Layla chided softly. She gripped Marc’s wrist and ran her fingers over the top of Marc’s hand, feeling his hand grow completely limp against the edge of the sink.

 

    Marc let out a ragged breath. “Should’ve,” he repeated softly.

 

    That was about as close as Layla was going to get to having Marc seeing her side of things. She guessed that all this clarity would be gone by morning. She had dealt with this numerous times before, but that would be a later problem. Right now she needed to take care of Marc, which is exactly what she was going to do.

 

    “Alright, back to bed with you,” Laylas instructed, her body pressed up against him to give him a small nudge. There was no doubt in her mind that he would’ve stayed at the sink until she told him to move. He may not have a fever, but it was clear he wasn’t behaving in the usual calculated way that he always did.

 

    While Marc shuffled back to the bed, shivering without a shirt on, Layla tapped his shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab somethings.”

 

    Part of Marc wanted to call for her not to leave. He managed to bite his tongue and glower as he continued forward, sniffling as he reached the bed. He sat down on it heavily, muscles tired and slightly aching. He swung his legs on the bed and propped himself up with a decorative pillow and an actual pillow. He doubted it would do any good, but having it there to help him open up his airways gave him some reassurance that he wouldn’t wake up unable to breathe like he had earlier in the evening.

 

    Just when Marc thought it was safe to attempt to drift off, he heard Layla return. He opened one eye and followed her around the room, curious as to what she was doing.

 

    In her arms were a box of tissues, some cough drops, and a wet rag. Marc’s head lolled to the side as he looked at her as she sat down beside him on the bed.

 

    “Here are some tissues so you don’t have to use that scratchy toilet paper.” She pushed the box forward and Marc immediately pulled out a handful, layered them together, and blew sharply. It was more frustrating than it was painful, though Marc wasn’t about to complain.

 

    Meanwhile, Layla opened the bag of cherry cough drops and jiggled it in front of Marc’s line of sight. “I know you won’t take any medication, but these cough drops are just like hard candy. It should help with your sore throat too.”

 

    Marc couldn’t believe that she had remembered his aversion to medication. Then again, it had been something she had been reminded of countless times from Marc fighting tooth and nail anytime anyone even suggested taking any sort of medication. It didn’t matter if it was over the counter meds, pain killers, or antibiotics, Marc Spector was against all of them and would rather suffer through whatever was happening to him than to succumb to taking something to make him feel better.

 

    It took a few moments of internal debate before Marc opened the bag and pulled out a single cough drop. He peeled it back from the wrapper and set it in his mouth. The taste was muted, though not horrible, and Marc continued to suck on it, hoping it did something for his hopelessly sore throat.

 

    “And this.” Layla folded the damp cloth and placed it Marc’s face, over the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks. It obscured part of his vision and Marc raised an eyebrow. “I think you may have a sinus infection. That may hep with the swelling and discomfort. My dad used to do that for me when I was sick.”

 

    It wasn’t often that Layla spoke about her father without a hint of sadness in her voice. Marc felt a twinge of shame that he was constantly reminded of. However, now wasn’t the time to have this internal debate with himself. What had happened, happened and there was nothing that he could do about it now. He would tell her the truth eventually, here just wasn’t the right time or place.

 

    “Marc,” Layla pressed when his eyes had gone blank as he appeared to be deep in thought.

 

    Marc gave a strong shake of his head. “Hmmm, just thinking.”

 

    “The only thing you should be thinking about is getting some real sleep.” Layla reached across and grabbed the remote for the light, flicking it off so that the entire room was bathed in darkness once more.

 

    For someone who spent a good chunk of their time doing the bidding of a moon God, Marc had never really been a fan of the dark. It reminded him of how alone one could feel, with sounds and possible threats all around and not be able to see them coming. There were some people that thrived under the cover of darkness, and before Khonshu had come into his life, Marc had not been one of those people. It still made him feel alone so that he would long for someone to be beside him, to comfort him when his thoughts went rampant thanks to the darkness.

 

    Breathing softly, Layla came up to snuggle against him. She wrapped her arms around his middle, face pressed into the crook of his neck.

 

    “I can’t promise I’m not going to sneeze more tonight,” Marc whispered.

 

    “And I’m willing to bet you will.” Layla let out a tired yawn. “That’s something to worry about later. Try to get some sleep, Marc. Tonight is not one of those nights that you have to carry the weight of the world.”

 

    ‘If only she knew,’ Marc thought as his eyes began to close. ‘If only she knew.’

 

The End

 

[Ignis]

I’m never on here anymore aside from to lurk, but this is one of my favorite MK sickfics ever and I reread it all the time ❤️

[M_s]

I had yet to read this one so I am glad that it was brought back to the top of the thread!