No True Pair

Title: Stitched Together
Fandom: Moon Knight (Marvel comics)
Pairing/Characters: Dr. Badr & Marc Spector
Rating: Teen
Content Notes: Mild injury and medical talk
Prompt: September Four - Dr. Badr & Marc Spector- head in the clouds

"Have you ever loved anyone, Youssef?" Spector asked him out of the blue. The use of his first name surprised Dr. Badr enough to take his eyes off the long gash on his thigh he was suturing closed and glance up at his face.

His brother had been distracted for weeks now, ever since the arrival of his former partner from overseas. Tonight, unforgivably, he'd missed one of the foul night's creatures they were stalking over the roofs of his territory until it was nearly too late; Badr had needed to take it out from a distance to prevent the wayward Moon Knight from becoming a zombie's dinner.

Something was bothering Marc Spector, and apparently it was going to come spilling out tonight, whether Badr wanted to hear it or not.

He looked down again at the wound and tied off another suture. "I have," he said, and left it at that. He didn't owe the secrets of his heart to anyone but Khonshu, who already knew them. "Who is on your mind?"

"My kid. My daughter, Diatrice." His eyes were closed; his expression was tight and pained, and not from the sutures, which were as painless as Badr's considerable skill could make them. "I didn't even meet her until she was five years old, and then her mother took her off to Europe to get her away from me. I was too dangerous to be around my own child."

"Hm." Badr made another neat stitch, tugging the sliced-open skin smoothly together. Perhaps it was the blood loss loosening Spector's tongue.

"She was right. I understood that. I could even get along without thinking about my kid too much, because I knew she was safer far away from me, and I had my duty, my Mission. I was okay."

"Hm," Badr said again, focused on the careful line of sutures in his flesh. His work was impeccable; he predicted Spector would hardly have a scar from this as long as he didn't rip the stitches open again. It was a much better outcome than he deserved for his carelessness.

"But they're back in New York now, and I still can't see her. And I want to, so much it hurts." Spector turned his head to catch his eyes. It was strange to see him so unguarded. "You know everything about everything, or so you keep telling me. Is it possible for a Fist of Khonshu to have a family?"

Badr took his time answering. He finished his last two sutures first, cleaned his hands, and wrapped his work with a fresh bandage to his satisfaction. Then he stepped back and motioned for his patient to sit up. "Every Fist is part of the same family, Mr. Spector."

His brother only snorted, which Badr ignored; he was used to Spector's lack of proper reverence on this matter.

He offered his hand to lever Spector up from the table, catching him in something like an embrace as he staggered on his injured leg. "And your child's mother is right," he said into his ear. "I carry the memories of every Fist of Khonshu inside me. Every life, and every death, stretching back millennia. Do you know how many of us die warm in our beds, surrounded by people we love?" He didn't pause for a response. "None. Not a single one. We go to our final rest in the eternal halls of our Father only after our bodies have been battered irreparably in his service, after we fall fighting his enemies and cannot rise again even at his command. We die as we live: bloody, broken, and battling alone. Is that a death you want your daughter to see? Is this a life you want her anywhere near?"

Spector stared back at him, his expression tight and inscrutable. Finally he pulled himself away and stood on his own with minimal swaying. "You should write Khonshu's recruitment speeches."

Badr handed Spector a set of clean clothing. "If it helps, know that the work you do protecting the travelers of the night makes this world a little safer for your child, whether she'll ever know it or not."

"I guess. Yeah." To his surprise, Spector reached out to clasp his arm. "Thanks for the assist, Hunter's Moon. And… the advice."

Badr waved off his thanks and shooed him toward the door. "Thank me by getting out of my clinic, Mr. Spector. I need to sanitize this room before the morning staff comes in."