Chapter Text
Morgan woke up slowly. Everything was… strange.
They couldn’t decide if they were comfortable or uncomfortable.
Tallies on the uncomfortable side: their throat hurt, their mouth tasted awful, their joints felt achy, and their whole body just felt… hot. Not in a good way. Their stomach wasn’t feeling 100% either. They also needed to pee.
Tallies on the comfortable side: a person was curled against Morgan’s back, one arm curled loosely over their waist. Morgan was not used to being the little spoon. It was really nice. But who was spooning them?
God, Morgan hoped it was Alex.
And… it was, Morgan realized as they sat up and looked behind them. It was Alex.
Alex Alex Alex.
Their stomach did a flip, but they didn’t feel a compulsion to throw up this time. More like a polite suggestion. Morgan very deliberately took all thoughts of Alex, sleeping with Alex, Alex cuddling, Alex cuddling me out of the forefront of their mind and sealed them up in a tight box to be looked at later. Maybe later. Maybe never.
They cast their mind back to try and figure out what had led up to this, but… all they really remembered was throwing up in the toilet. And some fuzzy memories that might be fingers in their hair, but Morgan couldn’t remember details.
So they went to the bathroom. And... Fuck, why did it smell like burnt plastic and cranberries in here?
After Morgan pissed and washed their hands, they noticed a glass jar with a bit of red wax at the bottom and the words “Cranberry Vanilla” written over a picture of three cranberries next to an orchid.
That didn’t explain the burnt plastic scent, but, as Morgan put their toothpaste on their toothbrush, they decided that they’d seen, and smelled, weirder. Moreover, it didn’t matter. It didn't smell like vomit, and that was all that mattered.
When Morgan was finished, they expected to open the bathroom door and exit the bathroom. They didn’t expect this to be a difficult task. They also didn’t expect Alex to be standing right there, blocking the door, their gold eyes wide and worried.
“Uh… hi,” said Morgan, scratching the back of their neck. “I’m uh…”
“You’re awake,” Alex said, still staring.
Morgan smiled crookedly. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry, apparently it was more like a stomach bug than a cold. I’m sorry if I-”
Alex held up a hand, no longer looking at them. “Don’t,” they said. “Are you…” They shook their head. “Just… are you okay? How do you feel?”
Morgan took a quick inventory. Their throat was sore, they had a headache, their joints hurt, their stomach felt vaguely queasy, and they felt vaguely flushed. “Better,” they said.
“Better,” said Alex, full of disbelief. “You still have a fever.”
“Better but still sick,” Morgan admitted. “Look, I’m sorry you had to-”
Alex cut them off again. “I’m supposed to make you drink fluids. Betty made Lonan buy some soup. Do you feel up to soup? Or, if not, there’s water.”
Morgan took a moment to scan their body. “Soup sounds… possible.”
Alex nodded sharply. “Okay. Okay, good. Go back to bed and I’ll get you the soup.”
“I’d rather eat in the kitchen-”
“No,” interrupted Alex. “I… no. Resting. In a bed. Bed rest. That’s the other thing I’m supposed to make you do. Are you going yourself or am I carrying you?”
Morgan was temporarily distracted by the mental image of being carried by Alex. It wasn’t like Alex had never carried them before. It happened often, actually. It was usually when they were saving Morgan’s life from some stupid thing Morgan had done. “I-”
“Too slow,” Alex said, scooping Morgan up and cradling them close. “Here.” They carried Morgan back to bed, set them gently on the mattress then gently tucking the blankets around their legs. Alex then teleported the throw from Morgan’s couch and wrapped it tightly around Morgan’s shoulders. They even fluffed and arranged the pillows behind Morgan so they could sit up without having to put any effort into it.
The brush of Alex’s hands over Morgan’s shoulders and thighs, the furrow in their brow as they concentrated on making the blankets and pillows absolutely perfect, the way Alex bit their lower lip… All were gems that Morgan turned over and around in their head, watching the sparkle, feeling the weight, then slipping them into a mental box. Later, perhaps they would find occlusions, but now was not the time for that. Now was the thrill of the heist. Of holding something precious, of stealing something precious, something beautiful and important that they hadn’t really earned, didn’t really deserve, and probably couldn’t keep.
Once satisfied that Morgan was wrapped up more securely than Tutankhamen, Alex used their superspeed to practically blink out the room and come back less than a breath later, holding a bowl of soup.
Not just any soup, Morgan quickly realized, as they inhaled the smell. It was pho. And not just any pho, but pho from Morgan’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant. It usually came with things like meat and noodles and Thai basil and chilies, but Morgan knew that smell well.
Morgan sipped a bit before they realized that Alex was staring at them. Had Alex even blinked in the last few minutes? “Um… do you want some?”
Alex shook their head. “No, it’s for you. To get better.”
Morgan laughed. “It’s not like prescription medicine or something. You can totally have some too.”
Alex just shook their head again.
Morgan took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not really comfortable eating while you just stare at me. It’s kind of… weird. So you could go sit in the living room or you could grab something you want to eat, but I don’t-” Alex was gone in a blink again. They were just as quickly back, sitting in one of Morgan’s kitchen chairs. Alex very deliberately took a sip from their Nightmare Before Christmas mug. It was probably filled with the blood of their enemies, but Morgan could neither see inside the mug, nor smell it.
Seven spoonfuls of soup later, Morgan realized that Alex had only taken that one sip. “Are you okay?” they asked.
Alex blinked. “Am- Am I okay? You’re the one who’s sick! You’re the one who practically lost consciousness in the bathroom six hours ago!” They gestured toward the bathroom so sharply, they spilled blood all over Morgan’s carpet. Alex looked down at the red stain with a disdainful sneer usually reserved for the Fairness Association and vanished the liquid with a snap of their fingers. This did not satisfy them; the magnitude of Alex’s sneer only increased.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Morgan said, gripping the warm bowl of pho more tightly.
Alex’s gold eyes snapped back to Morgan, their face twisting as they fought and failed to stop sneering. “Don’t. Apologize.” they snarled. Morgan didn’t flinch. “It’s not your fault you’re sick.” Fury burned in their eyes. “It’s mine.”
Morgan froze. “Wh-what?”
Alex practically growled, then they held up their favorite mug with both hands. It melted before Morgan’s eyes, becoming no more than a handful of molten lava. Then Morgan blinked and the mug was a mug again. “I can do a lot of things,” Alex hissed. “ I can do so many things. But I can’t- I can’t heal you. I can’t just make you not sick anymore.” Alex wasn’t looking at Morgan. They just kept staring at the mug in their hands, and shrugged one of their shoulders. “I’m sure there’s a handful of metas who can do that sort of thing. If I wished, I could steal their powers for myself, but I… I always thought attacking someone only using their power to heal others to be… well, tacky." Alex began to turn the mug, slowly, around and around.
“What did I need it for, anyway?” Alex asked. “I’m practically invulnerable, and even when I’m not, my regeneration abilities are already off the charts. It’s not as if I would ever have to heal myself, and it’s not as if I had anyone else I would need to heal.” Alex was determined not to look at Morgan. Their volume dropped to just a hair above a whisper. “After we became friends… I thought about it. About finding someone and killing them for those abilities. But it was still so… so tacky. And too easy. And I figured, what’s the point when it’s so much better just to protect you from whatever?
Alex’s shoulders slumped as they exhaled. “But I… I didn’t protect you from this.”
For several heartbeats, Morgan didn’t move. This… this was... It was imperative not to rush. Morgan had lots of emotions, but they needed a few breaths to turn those into some thoughts, to piece together their fuzzy memories into just the right words… or, as close as a D-lister like Morgan could get.
Eventually, once all their thoughts were lined up, Morgan reached forward and took Alex’s hand, interlaced their fingers and squeezed. Alex squeezed back but didn’t meet Morgan’s eyes. “Alex,” they said. “Alex, look at me.” They waited for Alex to drag their eyes away from the mug and back to Morgan. “I- You brought me soup. And you pushed my hair back when I was throwing up. And you held me.”
“You were shaking,” Alex said.
“You held me when I was shaking, and you… I think you cleaned up my vomit,” Morgan said. Alex didn't refute them. “All of that… that’s healing. It helps me so, so much. You’re helping me so, so much. I’m,” they shook their head. “I don’t need any superpowers right now. I just- everything you’ve already done is better than superpowers. Are you going to stay?”
Alex, eyes wide, nodded vigorously.
“Good. That’s exactly what I needed.” Morgan grinned. “And maybe more cuddling. Could more cuddling be arranged?”
Alex nearly made Morgan spill their pho with how quickly they leapt into Morgan’s bed. They ate the rest of the soup in Alex’s lap, resting against their chest, while Alex quietly hummed and updated Morgan’s minions in the group chat.