❛ mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the realest of us all? ❜
in which little aya spector doesn't
recognize herself in the mirror
( COPYRIGHT! - aka - DO NOT STEAL! )
illisius Ⓒ 2022
& , moon knight
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ACT ONE, chapter i : you are sick, and you're married, and you might be dying
☾
DYING WAS EASY.
A girl like Aya Spector knew this better than most.
Death had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. It was something she talked about easily, considered daily. Someone like her had to accept the inevitability of death very early. Not breathing seemed as natural as breathing at this point. Now, to be clear, she didn't want to die. Quite the opposite, really, she would love to live, but she knew she wouldn't. She would die very soon, in fact.
Any day now.
Marc Spector just didn't know that.
Years ago, Marc hadn't wanted children. He was too damaged. Too broken. He knew he wasn't well and he had too much sh—t weighing him down, there was no point. He was unlovable and, therefore, incapable of love. He was not capable of such sacrifice, of such goodness, and he didn't fool himself into thinking he could be. He would damage them. Hurt them. Ruin them, like his mother had ruined him.
Some people aren't meant to be parents.
Marc knew that better than most.
But then he made mistakes. He got blood on his hands, and that blood led him to Layla, and Layla led him to his worst fears. It seemed pretty fitting karma: unwanted death for unwanted life. A snake eating itself. A life for a life, you couldn't say fairer than that. But it did seem unreasonably cruel to the kid he would inevitably screw up.
After all, he killed his brother, hadn't he?
What kind of a father could a child murderer be?
But Layla wanted it, and Marc wanted Layla. She was his first bit of happiness he'd known since he was a child; his chance at freedom, his one weakness, his greatest strength.
Dark eyes shining, Layla had asked, "After all this death, don't we deserve a little life?"
She just didn't know he was responsible for not one but both of these things. Life of her child. Death of her father. He wanted to tell her. He should've told her. He didn't tell her. Another thing to feel guilty about...
Months passed. Moons rose. Layla glowed.
He resented it.
He feared it.
And then he held it.
Aya Elias Spector. A girl. His little girl, born on a full moon in Egypt, screaming and crying, already demanding the world acknowledge her life. She soothed instantly in his hands that had only known violence, in the arms of someone who was undeserving of her. Marc, who thought he was broken and damaged beyond repair, felt a part of himself piece back together again.
