Work Text:
Alex felt the bed shift as he slept. He opened his eyes. A figure hovered above him, pale face barely visible in the dark. The soft, subtle scent of coffee
“What do you want?” Alex asked with a soft groan as he slumped back against his pillow.
“I need you to be honest with me,” said Morgan, his voice cracked when he spoke. As Alex’s eyes adjusted to the dark he noticed the ever-present bags under Morgan’s eyes were more prevalent than usual, he was still wearing his normal clothes, and the bitter scent of black coffee seeped from his mouth when he spoke.
“You’ve been awake too long and now you’re delirious,” Alex said, raising his arm to snap.
“No,” said Morgan, quickly grasping his wrist and pushing Alex’s arm away. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Alex said, sitting up. He loathed the way the cold air hit him as he left the peaceful warmth of his blankets.
Morgan looked down at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. His calloused palms were covered in some kind of grit. No matter how many times he washed them - and Alex had watched - the stain never left. It was funny how the crimes Alex committed never left a mark, but Morgan, hermitted away in his workshop with soldering irons and electronics, always carried his with him.
For a while they sat there. Alex was about to slump back down and bury himself when at last Morgan broke the silence.
“You know your fans have fan theories, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I need you to be honest with me.”
“You already said that.”
“I know, but it’s really important,” said Morgan. His eyes finally left his hands, his gaze turning completely to Alex. Their eyes locked. Morgan never made eye contact, not unless it was crucial. Alex’s shoulders stiffened.
“Okay,” he said, hesitantly.
“Did you- am I - was I an object?”
“What?” Alex let out a soft, humorless laugh.
“Am I a doll you magicked into being a person?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Alex, seriously. Tell me the truth. Am I your childhood toy that you turned into a human because you got bored, or wanted a friend, or something?”
“No. What? No. Of course not. Where did that come from?”
Morgan continued to stare into his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I think I would remember if I created a life, Morgan.”
“But what if you made yourself forget?”
Alex blinked. He racked his brain for all the reasons that weren't possible and came up short. A tingling, uncomfortable feeling crawled up his spine, like a thousand spiders descending on him at once.
“Oh my god. What if I did make myself forget?”
“Oh god,” said Morgan, grasping his head in his hands. “Are all of my memories fake? Is Chad also a doll? Why would you make Chad?”
“Why would I make Chad?” Alex asked. He grasped Morgan’s shoulders. “No. No, this can’t be. I’ll just make myself remember again. Right? Right.” He clenched his eyes shut, trying to force forgotten memories back into his mind but nothing came.
“That won’t work!” said Morgan. “You’re too powerful! If you don’t want to remember then you aren’t going to!”
“Oh god you’re right,” said Alex. He felt like the world was spinning around him. “Somebody has to know, right? Maybe - maybe we should ask my mom? I mean, she would know? Wouldn’t she?”
“Yeah, yeah, she has to know. We’ll ask your mom, and she’ll tell us I was never a doll, and we can just get on with our lives, right?”
“Yes. Right. Yes.” Alex snapped and suddenly they were no longer sitting on the bed.
****
Mrs. Stewart took one look at the blanched, red-eyed faces of her son and his best friend and insisted on making them sit in the kitchen for chamomile tea and fresh-baked cookies. Morgan looked like he was close to tears, his hands grasped his mug with white knuckles. Alex wasn’t any better off. He kept standing up to pace, walking in circles throughout the kitchen.
Mrs. Stewart sat at the table, hands folded in her lap, waiting patiently for one of them to speak.
“Mom,” Alex finally said after a minute or two of tense silence.
“Yes, dear?”
“Can you be honest with me?”
“I always am.”
Alex finally slid into the chair next to Morgan, fingers tapping impatiently on the mahogany table. Yellow reptilian eyes met her crimson ones.
“Did I - is Morgan a doll I turned into a person?”
Mrs. Stewart laughed.
“This is serious!” said Morgan. “I deserve to know if I’m a toy.”
“You certainly do,” said Mrs. Stewart. “And if I knew the answer I would tell you.”
“Mom!” said Alex.
Mrs. Stewart shrugged.
“It hardly matters.”
“Of course it matters!” Alex and Morgan said at the same time.
“If he is, will you turn him back into a toy? Will you take away the sentience he once had and rip him from existence?”
Morgan tensed. He dropped his head into his hands. It hurt Mrs. Stewart to see him in such distress. She leaned over the table and gave his shoulder a soft, comforting squeeze.
“Jesus Christ mom, don’t say shit like that.”
“Then, it doesn’t matter,” said Mrs. Stewart. “You care for Morgan, Morgan cares for you. Whether or not he is an organic person or created with magic carries no weight. He is sentient now and that isn’t going to change anytime soon. But again - I have no idea. That’s the problem with God-like powers, I suppose.”
Morgan looked up from his hands. His flesh and bone hands. His hands that were now human, whether or not they had always been.
“I’m never reading fan theories again,” he said solemnly.