#ty Percy for sparking my nog thoughts oHhfGgg my god

[tiptapricot]

Had a chat w @khonshuscondemned under this post about a lot of parallels with Marc when it comes to how he deals with his emotions as a form of coping, and I decided to lay out/restate some stuff there in its own post since ideas got a bit out of hand.

Now I’ve already actually kind of talked ab (presented..?) some of these thoughts in my fic Utility, but the long n short of it is that in my view, Marc has become a master of compartmentalization when it comes to his emotions, because that’s how he’s learned to survive and cope with the trauma he holds.

Percy’s post specifically touches on the scene with the kid goon on the cliff in Cairo, and how Marc very clearly through the start of the episode makes deliberate choices not to harm the kid as much as the others. A slap instead of a punch, knocking out instead of threatening with a knife, throwing the knife away once he does find himself with it, etc. There’s a line for him there, and he obviously doesn’t want to cross it (also Jake chooses not to kill the kid, but doesn’t seem to hesitate for the other two, indicating that that’s a line for him as well).

However, Khonshu then orders Marc to take the kid to the edge, and we see him hesitate. Until now, not crossing his own line has been seamless with his fighting, a non issue, but here we see him falter. “He’s just a kid.” Just like Marc was. He knows what it’s like to be intimidated and scared and hurt by someone more powerful than him, and he doesn’t want to be that. But he has to be, and so he is.

And that’s the thing about Marc Spector. He feels things, he has triggers and boundaries, but he always shoves them to the side because his life is one big emergency situation, and in his eyes, that doesn’t leave room for opening up, for feeling conflict and fear. Because that would also leave him open to mistakes, open for his enemies to get their shot in, and that, in turn, could lead to the emergency situation turning into one of life or death.

From childhood to serving Khonshu, Marc has learned that taking things out of their box could be deadly, that doing so will only cause him harm and pain and anguish, and so he doesn’t. He keeps all his things sealed up and he doesn’t touch them, and he shoves them away when he needs to because he needs to.

And we see that in the cliff scene. We see him hesitate, and then boom, he shifts to a stony face, to a snarl, forcing himself into the rough and tumble headspace of someone who doesn’t care, someone who couldn’t care, because that’s what needs to be done. He holds the kid out over the ledge and—

He falls. And dies. And Marc has tripped headfirst over his line.

We see his face in utter shock for a moment, horrified and surprised, because that wasn’t supposed to happen, and just like always it was his fault (Abdullah El Faouly also wore a scarf when he died, because of Marc, because he thought he could do something he couldn’t). It’s enough to tip things over and let a reaction spill out for just a split second. But then he hides it all away again. He redirects his anger back onto Steven because it takes it off his hands, and then diverts his focus back to the mission, back to Khonshu, because he knows if he dwells on this for too long it will stop their mission in its tracks, and only more people will die.

We see a similar reaction at the trial where, once again, emotion is ripped out of Marc, put on display without his consent, and even when he is crying and tired and weak on the ground, he still pushes himself aside to get the job done. He points the finger at Harrow and says this is not about him because it isn’t, and if it was, then all of it would have to be, and he cannot be paralyzed by the weight of everything he refuses to recognize. He can’t be weak because then Harrow will win, and that can’t happen, and he specifically can’t be the one to let it happen (he cannot be blamed for something again. he is responsible and he does the right thing and he takes care of the people that need taking care of because that’s what he’s supposed to do and he’s already failed twice and seen how it ruins his life [caves and deserts, mothers and gods] and he can’t let that happen again).

And then! He doesn’t recognize afterwards that that sucked! That Harrow utilizing his mental health against him so aggressively was triggering and traumatizing. He’s gruff with Layla, but we see him freeze up at Mogart’s when Harrow shows up and he’s only able to move once he leaves. He doesn’t cower, he just looks angry and unbreakable. He becomes so unflinchingly tough that his body locks him in place and stops him from acting, even when Khonshu urges him to, because he is too caught up in himself and too busy hiding it. In Marc’s mind, even if he knows what’s happening in his head he can’t show it to anyone else, because vulnerability is weakness, weakness brings pain, and pain is the worst thing he can think of.

This of course, ironically, is exactly the situation he’s put in in the Duat.

Marc knows about his past, he knows what the doors Steven asks about lead to. He brushes off seeing himself at the Shiva as just an old memory, just some random time on a street, and he tries to deflect and hide. Moon Knight until this point has been a masterclass in watching Marc Spector’s cycle of repression, forced vulnerability, and repression again, but he isn’t allowed to take that step back this time. Instead it is the act of literally opening doors, LITERALLY opening things up to someone, that allows him to begin to heal (which isn’t to say that ANYONE should be forced to confront trauma they aren’t ready for, but in Marc’s case he was not going to allow anyone to see those things and it was doing damage to himself, and sharing the burden allowed his weight to be lighter).

In our brief convo, Percy then brought up the point that in the Duat, while Marc opens up to Steven, opens his sarcophagus, lets him in, he walks right past Jake’s. The room that was already open to begin with.

And that just… summarizes Marc’s conflict perfectly.

Because he chooses to open up to Steven, to force through that connection even if it hurts and wasn’t meant to be there, but even though Jake is there, asking for it, waiting for it, he cannot extend the same action. Because Jake is just another thing to keep in its box, another line he won’t cross. Only this time that line is a threshold. It is the step over an open door, into something sealed up tight in another room. Out of sight, out of mind. If he doesn’t recognize Jake, if he doesn’t see him, he can stay in the comfortable reality where he isn’t there, and their brain becomes much easier to manage. Because Marc is already walking a razor’s edge. Steven alone is enough, his own past and trauma alone is enough, and he is at his limit, pushing it.

Marc is constantly at his breaking point, and Jake would just be too much. He is extra baggage, something that when exposed cannot be hidden again, and Marc would be forced to topple right over the edge, to confront that maybe he has more to deal with than he thought he did, more than he ever could alone or even with Steven.

And that, of course, would mean he’d need support. From others. That reaching out would become what he needs to do instead of pulling away.

Jake would open a door, without Marc even touching the doorknob, and that, out of everything, is something he can. Not. Allow.