Chapter Text
Alex was bored.
Being bored sucked. Usually he'd resolve his boredom with death and devastation. Murder and carnage always brought a smile to his face as he toyed with the pathetic little heroes. But today… he didn’t really feel like it. He’d just had lunch with his parents for the first time in… years. It was nice. Nicer than he’d anticipated and now resorting to bloodlust to entertain himself seemed a touch crass.
“...what to do? What to do?” Alex mused as he tossed the mechanical heart of a once beloved android around like a ball. It made for very nice paper weight.
And then he remembered his newest play thing. That strange villain he’d been texting on and off for the last few months. He always made things less boring, even if Alex was just trying to terrorize him… albiet he did that less and less now since the D-tier nobody had stopped flinching and now just sassed him. It was… disarming and amusing, so Alex was letting it slide for the time being. But yes his new toy would do nicely to entertain him tonight.
Alex dropped the twisted core and tangle of wires back to his desk with a clank and stood, tucking his phone into his pocket. With a brief check he located Morgan and smirked. At home, perfect~ He didn’t bother to snap when he was alone, since it was merely an affectation he’d picked up just to make sure the heroes knew he was the one behind their misery. So in a faint swirl of red smoke he vanished.
~
When he rematerialized he was surprised to find the apartment mostly dark. He knew Morgan was awake and home, having just checked before he teleported, so he'd been fully expecting to make the shorter man jump. What he heard instead was a slightly slurred voice mutter from the couch, “... move .”
Alex glanced over and titled his head as he spied Morgan laid out on the old ratty sofa. Several glass bottles littered the table and floor nearest too him, quite a few actually, mostly just cheap beer or malt mixes and one mostly empty bottle of cheap tequila. “Excuse me?”
“Move.” Morgan repeated with a sigh. He was looking up at the ceiling clearly more than a little drunk at this point, and he lifted one of the empty bottles next to him and gestured with it, clearly miming throwing it.
Alex narrowed his eyes and then glanced behind him and saw what Morgan meant. Behind him on the wall was a messily spray painted bullseye. Alex had noticed it there every time he’d popped into Morgan’s apartment but had never asked about it before. Now he saw what it was for. Scattered around the floor underneath the red spray paint was a pile of broken glassware. The remains of bottles, cups, and plates littered the floor. Some of their contents now staind the wall with wet splotches and the whole mess was certainly contributing to the stench of alcohol filling the small space.
Curiously he glanced back at Morgan before stepping to the side, giving Morgan a clear line of fire again. Morgan pushed up onto his elbows, closed one eye and lifted the bottle in an unsteady hand as he lined up his throw. With a significant amount of force he lobbed the brown glass bottle across the room. It shattered with a loud crash the moment it hit the wall, just slightly above the center of the bullseye. Glass sprayed across the room, little jagged bits scattering and tinkling all across the cheap floors.
“Nineteen.” Was all Morgan said before he collapsed back against the sofa, still not really acknowledging Alex.
Well I’m certainly not bored… “Having fun?” He finally asked when Morgan didn’t make any move to speak again.
“N- not particularly.” Morgan muttered. “Not unless y-y-your here to put me out of my misery.”
Alex frowned. He might not have known Morgan long, but this seemed rather out of character for him. Yes he drank, but not like this, and usually not alone. He also was… more chipper most days. Not always happy, but energetic and amused and pleasant. Now he just seemed… bitter and sad. Bitter and sad wasn’t fun. His toy was supposed to be fun. Who broke my toy?
“... No. No I’m not.” Alex finally said as he stepped over to Morgan, little bits of glass crunched under his shoes.
“Bum- er.” Morgan slurred.
“What happened?” Alex asked leaning over Morgan now and staring down at the disheveled drunken man. He just snorted and rubbed a hand over his face.
“ My life , 's what happened.” He laughed but it was edged with something angry. “We don’ all get ta be you .”
Alex glared down at Morgan who just glared back. But water was standing in his eyes and he had to look away to blink them clear.
“ Explain. ” Alex demanded.
“What? Th-at you’re Mr. Fucking Perfect? And that life sucks f'ur the rest of us? Pu-lease. ” Morgan scoffed, but he still wasn’t looking at Alex.
Alex growled low in his throat and Morgan glanced back at him. “ Why. Are. You. Unhappy. ” Alex bit out, each word sharp and clear. He watched as Morgan swallowed, just a little afraid, but he didn’t flinch or start spilling his guts. No, he just stared up at Alex, gaze a little unfocused, expression neutral.
“Why- why do you care ?” Morgan asked back after several long contemplative seconds of silence.
“Curiosity.” Alex answered honestly and saw a small look of contempt flicker over Morgan’s face before it was gone again.
Then he sighed and dragged a hand through his messy hair again, brushing it out of his face. Finally he started to push himself up again. It was a terribly uncoordinated affair but he managed it with only a little pinwheeling of arms. Once he was sitting up on the sofa again, he pressed a hand to his face and just closed his eyes as he muttered, “... fuck, I’m drunk. ”
“Yes, I noticed.” Alex replied, rolling his eyes as he backed up, crossing his arms over his chest while Morgan settled. He gave the man a once over before adding, “You are well on your way to alcohol poisoning.”
“ Fun… ” Morgan sighed before finally letting his hand fall away to look up at Alex.
But when he didn’t saying anything Alex rolled his eyes again, “You’re unhappy because…? ”
“Oh… right… Well f'ur starters my ‘not an ex but- but should be’ cheated on me again." Morgan answered, more pissed now than miserable. "And then we got int'a screaming match and he stormed out, again. Like somehow I’m the one at fault here.” He growled, rage burning just underneath the surface.
This wasn’t the first time Morgan had mentioned his… Alex loathed to call him a lover, boy friend was probably more accurate, but every time he had, Alex ranked him lower and lower in worth. He was now somewhere below used chewing gum stuck to the sidewalk and painted on brail. But instead of saying that Alex just leaned against the arm of the love seat and asked, “How do you know he was cheating again?”
“Well he was fucking someone in my guest room when I got home.” Morgan sneered and gestured angrily to the hall, nearly over balancing himself. “And he had the gall to tell me I should be grateful they were in the guest room and not my bed since it has the better mattress!” And before Alex could say anything else, the wobbly Morgan snatched up another one of the empty bottles and hurled it with as much strength as he could muster at the bullseye.
Once again the bottle exploded into a shower of glass shards. This time he hit dead center, which Alex had to admit was sort of impressive given how disoriented the other villain was.
“ Twenty. ” Morgan spat.
“And you didn't kill him because ?” Alex asked, "I think you'd certainly be happier right now if you had.”
Morgan just grunted and swiped a hand over his face. “No, no I didn’t. And no I don’t think cleaning his blood off my walls would make me feel any better.”
Alex snorted but when Morgan didn’t say anything else, just turned to stare out the dark window, Alex was forced to prompt him again, “Did you at least end things with him?”
“ I. Tried. To. ” Morgan muttered darkly. “He just kept ignoring me or- or talking over me and then he stormed out in this indignant rage like I was the one who was at fault! Like he was graciously choosing to leave instead of me throwing his ass out-! Like he was the one deigning not to break up with me-! Like today doesn’t suck enough already without this bullshit thrown in on top! ” And Morgan lobbed another bottle, this one was full this time and a spray of foam and beer splattered across the wall along with the broken glass. “ The son of a bitch!”
“... Twenty one.” Morgan panted as his rage once again fizzled back down into misery. His anger seemed to only come in quick hot flashes of fury before they were swallowed up again. It was certainly curious to watch… in a pathetic kind of way.
Alex waited until the fizz of the beer went silent before he spoke again, “Why don’t I just kill him, then? There wouldn’t even have to be blood in your apartment. And then you can get over whatever this is.” And he gestured to all of Morgan’s current state of disarray.
But instead of agreeing or even arguing, he did something so much worse…
He began to cry.
Not big fat tears or ugly sobs or anything, no just angry drops that escaped from his eyes as he glared at Alex and rolled down his cheeks.
“Oh come on , don’t do that.” Alex scoffed, and shook his head.
“I’m not doing it on fucking purpose.” Morgan hissed as he swiped at his face and looked away.
Alex adjusted uncomfortably. He didn’t really care if he made people cry, in fact he enjoyed the way he could break down even the ‘toughest’ heroes and make them openly weep. Their misery amused him, but this was different… For starters he didn’t mean to make Morgan cry and he wasn't even been trying to antagonize him… So he should apologize or something.
“I take this is you saying you don’t want me to kill… what was it? Rick or whatever.” Alex said instead. The look Morgan shot him was furious and miserable all at once.
“ Rowin.” He muttered, “And no… I don’t want you to kill him.”
“Why not? He is a literal waste of space and resources, and he does nothing but hurt you. Why not just get rid of him?” Alex asked, irritation coloring his words now. He just couldn’t understand what Morgan’s hang up was on this. Once he was dead Morgan wouldn’t ever have to deal with him again. No more drinking himself to death or crying on the sofa in the middle of the night.
“Because!” Morgan snapped back as he swiped at his face again. “Because- Fuck-! you- you wouldn’t understand…”
Alex narrowed his eyes and sent Morgan a dark look. “ Try me. ”
Morgan held his gaze unflinching for several very long seconds, he never so much as blinked. Sometimes Morgan was very good at looking like he wasn’t afraid. But finally he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “... because we all don’t get to be you . We all don’t get to be choosy when we find someone who can stand to love us… And I’m tired of being alone.” And Morgan looked away again. “So if this is what I have to put up with… then I will.”
Alex just stared at Morgan, and Morgan just stared out the window again. It didn’t make any sense… Alex didn’t understand what Morgan meant by that. Meant by finding someone who could 'stand to love him'… Love was supposed to be a mutual thing, right? A happy one? Alex had no interest in it, but he didn’t live under a rock, he knew what it was supposed to be at the very least.
“...I don’t understand what you mean.” Alex finally admitted.
Now it was Morgan who was scoffing and swiping at more tears. “ I told you.” He managed voice cracking a little at the end before reaching forward and snatching the tequila bottle off the beat-up coffee table.
“You shouldn’t have any more alcohol.” Alex warned. Morgan just gave him the finger and lifted the capless bottle to his lips. So Alex snapped.
And then Morgan spluttered in surprise as water hit his tongue instead of the rubbing alcohol burn of cheap tequila. He tugged the mostly empty bottle back coughing and looked at it. Sure enough the once amber liquid was now as crystal clear as water. “ Son of a bitch. ” Morgan growled as he looked back up at Alex.
Alex smirked back and crossed his arms. “No more alcohol… your BAC is pushing 0.2%. You’ll start puking soon if you’re not careful.”
“ Why the fuck does it matter to you?” Morgan demanded.
“You should drink the rest of that. You need to start drinking more water.” Alex replied ignoring Morgan’s question entirely.
Morgan glared up at Alex and then with deliberate vindictiveness hurled the tequila bottle at the wall. Again when it hit the reinforced section of drywall, the bottle exploded on contact. Shattering into dozens of lethal shards as water splattered against the wall and dripped onto the floor. Then he shot Alex a look of malicious defiance as he muttered, “Twenty fucking two.”
But his anger didn’t last long, and he just slumped back over to lay down on the sofa again. His head on the opposite end from Alex this time.
Alex scowled at Morgan but he didn’t seem to have the energy to care any more, so Alex let it go. Arguing with drunk people was always so irritating. “...why the counting? Are you just trying to keep track of how many you threw?”
Morgan snorted but didn’t open his eyes. “Somethin' like that… One for each fucking year…”
“For each year of what?”
“Since I was pushed kicking and screamin' into this world without anyone ever askin' me if that’s what I wanted.” Morgan muttered words slurring again as his anger fully receded again.
It took Alex a second before it clicked, “It’s your birthday.”
“Congratulations to me…” Morgan breathed, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Alex frowned but Morgan didn’t notice, he just lay there with his eyes closed, and Alex didn’t say anything else. Several minutes passed like this before Morgan opened his eyes again.
“ ...god, you’re still here… ” He half whispered, too drunk to really keep his voice down. More loudly he said, “Look Alex… Just go. I’m not really in the mood to be entertaining f'ur you right now…”
“Who said that’s why I’m here?”
Morgan snorted, “That’s always why you pop in to see me. ‘Cause you’re bored and want to poke at someone.”
Alex grimaced a little. He didn’t like that tone Morgan had. Not because it was insulting or anything… but because it was knowing. He called it in one, even while intoxicated. That was
exactly
why Alex was here. He didn’t… like that. He didn’t like that his toy knew it was being watched…
because it makes him feel less like a thing.
But before Alex could say anything else, could deny Morgan’s accusations, the other villain had begun to lightly snore. Alex scowled at that and nearly went over to wake him back up, but… that wouldn’t do him any good. Instead he shoved up from where he’d been leaning and started to step away, when he heard more glass crunch under foot.
He glanced around and could see how much more glass was now scattered about not just along the far wall, but all over the living room and dining area floors. The cheap laminate glittered with shards of glass, some so small Alex doubted Morgan would see them. He glanced back at the sleeping figure and- He’s not wearing shoes. And after a quick glance Alex didn’t see any shoes anywhere nearby. Morgan would have to walk over all this broken glass to even get to a pair…
Without thinking- without letting himself think about it too much, he snapped his fingers. And the apartment was clean. The glass was gone, the wall stains and pools of water and beer wiped away. The dishes in the sink were clean now too. And the laundry all folded and put away.
There was no real reason for him to have done that. It didn’t benefit him in anyway… But he’d stepped on glass a few times while growing up and… he hadn’t liked it very much. So why make Morgan have to tiptoe through a sea of it while hungover. Alex just shook his head a little and let himself vanish again.
Morgan might have been right about his motivations, but he’d been wrong about his success. Morgan might not have been fun… but he was always interesting. So what if Alex preferred it when the other villain was happy and excitable.
Morgan woke up… and promptly wished he hadn’t. His head was pounding, the world past his eyelids was way too goddamn bright, and he was pretty sure if he moved he would throw up. So he just laid there for several long minutes hoping his stomach would settle.
It didn’t, so he just cracked open one eye. The regret was instantaneous. Blinding searing light hit the back of his retina like a fucking knife to the skull. He cursed and closed it again. But he really needed to get up. He didn’t want to throw up laying on the sofa. Most of last night was a blur of yelling, hate, and grief and- Oh fuck. Alex.
Alex had been there last night. Morgan couldn’t really remember what the fuck they’d talked about but he knew for damn sure he hadn’t been at all nice about it. So he braved the sunlight again and managed to keep from dying as he pushed up to sitting.
It took much too long for him to even start to looking for his phone but by the time he had the he could see through the lethal glare- And there was no glass. No mess. No bottles or plates or anything. The wall looked fine, no dried stains on the paint, no pile of shards underneath it.
“ ...what the fuck…” He muttered as he slowly looked around, his phone just resting on the coffee table. No one else was here last night… except Alex…
He was down to 10% battery when he finally unlocked his phone. He had seven texts from Rowan and two missed calls, all of which he ignored. Instead he scrolled down to Alex’s chat and opened it up.
He was probably way too hung over to be doing this but it didn’t matter.
Morgan, 12:53 pm: Sorry about last night i wasnt feeling the best
He hesitated for several seconds as he decided what else he wanted to say.
Morgan, 12:54 pm: Thanks for clean up
Morgan, 12:54 pm: I really appreciate it
And he puffed out a sigh. He didn’t think the S-tier villain would reply right away, hell he didn’t think he’d reply at all… But he did appreciate it.
“Okay… time for some painkillers and water… and coffee.” Morgan muttered before gingerly climbing to his feet.