Chapter Text
They were fighting. Again. It seemed like they were always fighting these days; things that could barely be classified as irritating turned into hurt feelings and sharp words and tears.
Tears. They were still such a strange sensation, so unfamiliar and painful. The first time Alex had ever cried was when that idiot Morgan had nearly gotten themselves murdered and were in the hospital, on the brink of death. Alex sobbed that day, for the first time in their entire life. They didn’t think it would ever happen again - they would never let Morgan be hurt again. There would never be another reason to cry.
And yet, here they were. In tears after another bitter fight over something stupid. It had been their fault - they teleported into Morgan’s apartment after not hearing from them for a few days, which started a vicious spat over privacy
And Alex may have implied that Morgan was fragile.
And Morgan may have not-so–much-implied-as-said-directly-to-Alex’s-fucking-face that they would rather fucking die than have Alex treat them like some toddler who couldn’t protect themselves.
And Alex may have said that if Morgan was so keen on taking care of themselves, maybe they didn’t need Alex at all.
And Morgan may have agreed.
So Alex left, sauntering off as they shouted about how they didn’t need Morgan, anyway - there were a million other people just like them.
That wasn’t true. There was only one Morgan, only one person who could make Alex feel like this. And if Alex was sensible, if Alex wasn’t too fucking proud, they would have chased after Morgan, begged them to come back. But they didn’t.
It would just resolve itself, anyway. These fights always did.
The fights had started three months ago, which was (completely coincidentally, of course) when Alex had found their nemesis in Morgan’s apartment. They thought that something had happened, that someone had hurt Morgan. It was terrifying.
But no. No one had hurt Morgan; instead, Morgan had decided to give Alex’s nemesis another shot. And just not tell their best friend, something which Alex was very definitely not bitter about. Just like they were very definitely not bitter about how they had to see Morgan fawning over the person who regularly tried (and regularly failed, obviously) to hurt Alex.
Now Alex was lucky if they went a week without arguing with Morgan. They didn’t like it - they fucking despised it - but it just kept happening.
And now they were weeping and furious over a teleportation incident and as much as they wanted to crawl on their knees, begging for Morgan to forgive them, they also never wanted to hear that name again.
So when it appeared on their phone, “Jenny” blasting through the silence of their lair, Alex didn’t answer the phone.
They were fighting. Again. Morgan just wanted it to be over, for things to go back to normal. But everyone was so on edge lately and Alex was being so fucking annoying and it probably didn’t help that Morgan was dating their nemesis. But Morgan didn’t want to think about that right now; they didn’t want to think about anything.
They just wanted to do something stupid.
The plane yard was enormous, a huge stone expanse stretching out in every direction. The planes themselves were enormous, sleek and smooth and brilliant. Morgan grinned (because they were happy. They were happy, they were fine. Alex’s hurt expression was definitely not still burned into their mind) and, laughing maniacally (see? happy) opened a door and let themselves into a plane.
It was probably a good time to think about how they didn’t know how to fly an airplane, or even drive a car, but hey- how hard could it be to learn?
The answer was very hard.
Especially when heroes with flight powers and laser vision are chasing you.
And it gets even worse when your plane is spiraling downwards at an alarmingly fast rate, with no one to save you.
The ground was approaching so quickly and they didn’t even think, just pulled out their phone and called Alex.
They would answer.
The call wasn’t picked up; Morgan left a frantic voicemail, called again.
They would answer this time.
Morgan was shouting into the phone, pleading for help, for Alex to save them.
Alex would answer; Alex cared about Morgan. Yes, they were fighting, and they’d both said shitty things, but Alex would save them.
Hands shaking, Morgan called a different number.
“Morgan?”
“Hi! Uh, plane. Crashing. Now. About to die. Can you spare five minutes?”
“I’ll be there in ten seconds.”
The nice thing about a superhero for their partner was that was not an exaggeration; Morgan was safe in a moment, gripping their partner tightly as they soared above the trees. They were okay.
So why did they feel so shitty?
“Breaking news: A stolen plane has just crashed into the mountains, pursued by heroes. The D-Tier level hero, known as Morgan, is believed to have perished in the crash.”
No .
“Morgan has been known to have associations with the famed S-Tier villain Ale-”
Alex wasn’t there to hear the rest of the broadcast. They were at the sight of the crash in a moment, tearing desperately through the rubble. There was no movement, no sound. No indication of life.
“Morgan? Morgan! Morgan, I- you aren’t dead. You can’t be.” Alex’s voice was breaking. “You aren’t dead, Morgan, I swear to god, you had better not be dead.” They were sobbing now, on their knees. “Please.”
They couldn’t see anything through the smoke, but they could hear the heroes shouting, slowly coming closer.
The heroes who killed Morgan.
Alex’s pure, unfiltered rage was something that would drive someone out of their mind. It was more terrifying than anything imaginable. The heroes saw it, that day. They were afraid, at first, and then came the agony. As if ten thousand spiders made of razor blades were trying to tear out of their skin while they were being burned alive.
Alex’s rage was a story that would have been whispered down through generations, only no one ever lived to tell of it.
“Hi. Alex? I- so, sorry ‘bout that whole fighting thing. Um, but my plane’s kinda about to crash and it would be really nice if you could, y’know. Do your thing.”
“Alex, please. I’m really scared. I- please.”
“Alex! Alex, I- oh god, Alex. I’m not going to make it. I’m going to die, Alex. I- I’m sorry, okay? For everything I said. If I’m going to die today… I’m sorry. I love you.”
Alex listened to the voicemails over and over again, frozen.
Morgan-
Morgan was dead.
But the sound of Morgan’s voice, shaking and desperate, stopped, replaced with a very different one.
“ Jenny, darlin', you're my best friend-”
Hands trembling, Alex reached for the phone.
“Alex?”