Work Text:
“Oh, Morgan, son, I told you that you could take today off,” Big Mike spoke to Morgan with obvious concern in his eyes, “You don’t have to work today.”
Morgan glanced briefly at Casey standing beside him, shifting his stance. “It’s okay Big Mike, I wanted to come in. It’s not a big deal anymore, alright?”
“If you’re sure. There’s no shame in taking off today, son.” Big Mike noted, but walked away regardless. Casey couldn’t help but look down at Morgan curiously. If Morgan noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it, choosing instead to walk away towards the back room.
Casey wasn’t a stupid man. He could tell something was different today about Morgan Grimes. Not something he seemed to want to speak about, either. Though that was a lot of things, contrary to how he so often appeared.
Still, he chose to let it go. Feelings weren’t his strong suit, and Morgan didn’t want to talk about it. That was fine by him.
But not really.
“Bartowski.” He barked out, catching the gangly man’s attention from across a few isles.
Chuck was near him swiftly, still holding a pen loosely in his hand. “What’s up, Casey? Mission?”
“No, there’s no mission, I…” he thought for a moment, “Is there some kind of significance for today? Like one of your weird Bartowski things?”
Face twisting slightly, Chuck seemed to ponder it, before simply shrugging. “I don’t think so. Why?”
Casey grunted, “Nothing. Forget it.”
“Well, no, that’s a weird question for you. What’s going on?” Chuck asked, that earnest expression settled easily on his face. Casey just walked away, gesturing vaguely.
If Chuck had any more questions, he didn’t bring it up again. And Casey took note of it. Because John Casey was a spy, and as such he understood the information that he gathered. Whatever was up—if anything at all—was not something that Chuck knew about.
Then it had to be relatively minor, he reasoned. And that reasoning felt satisfactory.
At least, until Morgan came out of the back room, dusting his hands off despite nothing being on them.
His eyes scanned around the Buy More, zoning in on a customer who was stood at the movie rack. In an instant, he was at her side, offering his assistance. Casey paid it no mind. Though, after a certain point, he couldn’t ignore it. Not when Morgan bounced around like a pinball from customer to customer.
Morgan might’ve had a work ethic, but nothing that driven had ever shown. It was as if he couldn’t stop for fear of exploding. And Casey found that he could only watch.
It didn’t escape him that he was the only one taking note of the behavior. If Chuck saw, he didn’t care.
Part of Casey almost wished he didn’t care, either.
“Hi, what are you looking for today?” “Finding everything alright?” “Welcome to the Buy More, how can I help today?” “Thank you for shopping at Buy More!” “Oh, that’s a great choice you’ve got there, ma’am.”
It went on and on, with such a single-minded determination that it left Casey almost shocked at the level of near manic efficiency. It was like Morgan Grimes had taken fundamental parts of himself and turned them into caricatures. That need to help being transformed into something all wrong.
Still, Casey did his best to continue about his own day. When lunch time came around, he opted to actually eat the sandwich Morgan had packed for him. Though, he made an effort first.
“Grimes,” he barked out, stopping Morgan in his tracks as he started going towards another customer, “It’s break time. Let’s go eat lunch, okay?”
Morgan blinked at him, and was disturbingly blank for a moment. But just as soon as he was, he had found a smile again. “Oh, okay, sure! Must’ve lost track of time.”
The break room was mostly empty, spare for the only other people in there—Skip and Bunny—talking softly about something or other. Casey sat down at the furthest table from them, and Morgan sat down beside him, having taken his sandwich from his locker.
Morgan’s sandwich was gone within minutes. Casey ate at least somewhat slower.
“So, how’re you doing today, John?”
Casey quirked a brow, “Fine. You?”
“Oh, I’m doing just great!” he chirped, leg bouncing under the table, “I mean, this has been a good day, I think. Nothing crazy, but it’s working out. Anything cool happen to you?”
“It’s the Buy More, Grimes.” Casey deadpanned, crumpling up his now empty bag, “What are you expecting?”
He didn’t really reply.
Casey fully expected him to go back to customers, but Morgan surprised him, instead slipping into the back hall. Near silently, Casey trailed behind, ensuring enough distance that Morgan wouldn’t notice him.
Lester sat at a desk inside, messing with something or other that Casey didn’t fully understand nor care to learn about. Morgan, though, went right over to him.
“Hey, Lester,” he chirped, grinning, “What’re you working on?”
Lester didn’t look up from the mess of wires and tools he had created. “Macbook. Some lady messed it up. And, well of course it went to me, since I’m the expert.”
Morgan smiled, leaning over Lester’s shoulder slightly, “Oh, man, that’s cool! Hey, that kind of reminds me of when you were working with that one gaming computer, remember—”
“For God’s sake, Morgan, I’m trying to focus here!” Lester snapped, setting down his tool and glancing at Morgan, “Can we talk later?”
Morgan stood up straight, nodding quickly. “Sorry, man, I’ll… yeah, I’ll just be…” he hesitated for a long moment, before quickly muttering apologies and walking away. Casey backed away from the door, filled with uncertainty. Walking back to the front of the Buy More, he couldn’t help but think about it. On one hand, he wanted to be annoyed, but on the other he knew he really wasn’t.
So the day simply went on. Morgan kept flinging himself from one problem to the next, as if he could fix a hundred problems and finally find the answers to his own. And Casey watched quietly from the shadows. It was all he could think to do. All he knew how to do.
But even the work day couldn’t last forever. And Casey was Morgan’s ride.
Sitting in the car as Casey drove, the air felt thicker than normal. The radio was off—as it always stayed—and for a few minutes, neither said anything. But soon enough, Morgan broke the silence.
“So, anything interesting happen to you today?” Morgan asked, looking over at him with eyes that seemed to search Casey’s very soul.
Casey had nothing there to see that could possibly satisfy. “No, Grimes. It was just another day.”
“Heh, yeah,” Morgan chuckled, looking down at his hands in his lap, “Just another day.”
The phone buzzing in his pocket, drew Casey’s attention as he pulled into Echo Park. “Casey.”
“It’s Sarah. Could you finish the paperwork for the last case? I know it’s my turn, but Chuck surprised me with this dinner plan, and I don’t want to miss it.” Sarah spoke almost sheepishly.
Casey rolled his eyes with a small hint of fondness. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks, Casey. I swear, I’ll do it the next three times to make up for it.”
A small click sounded, and Casey shoved his phone back into the cupholder. “Hey, I’ve got to run out to Castle. I’ll be back later.”
“I could go with you!”
“Grimes, just get out of the car.”
Morgan did just that, walking around the building towards the apartment. Casey grunted to himself as he backed out and drove away. Morgan needed to take a break anyway, and Casey had just accomplished just that, but without all the feelings he dreaded. It worked out.
So, he simply went down to Castle, where a small file of paperwork was left still sitting on the table. Sitting down heavily, he resolved to finish it. He ignored how much of a contrast there was between the penmanship of Sarah, and his own as he did the final section.
Though, it wasn’t a small amount that was left. Easily fifty pages. It was mind numbing, but Casey worked through it dutifully, ensuring everything was done right. He wasn’t one to skim through something, so he wouldn’t leave anything out.
As he flipped the file closed, he glanced at his watch. It had somehow made it all the way to 7:00pm, when he had left at 5:30. Standing up and stretching, Casey made his way out of Castle, and back into his car.
Though, as he approached his front door once he got back, he couldn’t help but feel a slight dread pool in his stomach. He disregarded it, and opened the door.
Morgan stood in the kitchen, apron on his front and hands moving fast. “Oh, hi, John!” he chirped, “I made dinner.”
That was an understatement. As Casey looked at the plates and plates of food on the counter, it became clear that Morgan had been cooking since the moment he got home. And it unnerved Casey more than real crimes scenes did.
Morgan, on the other hand, appeared entirely unphased. “I wasn’t sure what today’s vibe was, so I kind of just got carried away, you know? But, hey, nothing wrong with more options!”
“Grimes…” Casey looked at the bearded man still dutifully mixing something in a bowl, “What the hell is going on?”
Faltering in his constant movement, Morgan’s gaze fell slightly, but he picked it back up, “Just got that itch to cook, you know? I’m no benihana, but I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it.”
“That’s not—jesus, you need to stop!” Casey snapped, gesturing to the countertop now covered in dishes of food.
Morgan looked down at the bowl, chuckling faintly after a moment, “Yeah, I guess so. Whoops.”
Finally, he set the bowl down. Pulling the apron off, he beamed at Casey.
“At least we have dinner!”
“You made enough to feed the entire NSA, Grimes.” Casey deadpanned, uncertain how to proceed. Still, it didn’t phase Morgan, who simply picked up a plate that had spaghetti on it and walking over to the table. Casey took a plate with fried rice and egg. It felt far too heavy in his hand, though he had a feeling it was more to do with him than the food.
Morgan’s leg bounced under the table, and Casey saw it. It bounced with such a speed and aggressiveness that the table shook slightly. But Morgan simply didn’t notice it. He ate his spaghetti quickly, free hand drumming his fingers against the table.
Casey couldn’t eat much. Not when the world felt incorrect. When Morgan felt incorrect.
The moment Morgan’s plate was empty, he sprung up like a jack-in-the-box, taking his plate to the kitchen and cleaning it. Without a word, he began attempting to cover the rest of the plates with cellophane and stacking them into the fridge like a strange game of Tetris.
Finishing his rice in silence, Casey too took his plate to the sink to clean off. Morgan barley acknowledged him, as if breaking his concentration would break his mind with it.
“What the hell is going on today, Grimes?” Casey asked finally, looking down at Morgan as he tried to balance two plates in the fridge.
Morgan grinned without taking his eyes off the food, “Just got a lot of energy, John.” He balanced the last plate and shut the fridge, standing up straight and facing Casey.
“No, you…” Casey fought to find the right words, but found none of them. He growled, gesturing vaguely. “Fuck, nevermind.”
He walked away, footsteps heavy with the knowledge that he could try harder, but simply chose not to. Even as he carried himself away, he wished he would just turn around. Face the problem at hand. But he just couldn’t.
Sitting down on the sofa in the living room, he tried to disregard it all. He disassembled his gun and reassembled it on the coffee table. It didn’t really help.
Morgan followed him not long after, sitting down beside him in silence. It was the first real silence from the shorter man that day. It should’ve felt like a breath of fresh air, but it didn’t.
“I’m sorry, John.” Morgan spoke at last, as Casey snapped the final piece of the gun back into place, setting it down.
“Doesn’t matter.” He said shortly, “You’ve been acting weird all day, and you keep just refusing to do anything about it. What the hell is going on, Grimes?” Casey stared at Morgan, almost angered by how much he wanted to help him.
Morgan shifted in his seat, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not…” he sighed, a small and quiet sound, “It’s not that important, okay? It never has been.”
“How could it be if you refuse to talk about it?” Casey countered, trying his best not to sound rude.
Quiet and small, Morgan seemed to shrink in on himself, an empty chuckle coming up from his lips. “Fine, fine. I… It happened a long time ago, so it’s—it’s not a problem anymore.” He laughed again, but it sounded all wrong. “But, uh… Today is the anniversary of my dad leaving.”
Casey felt the room get colder as he stared at Morgan. The latter glanced at him, and his smile faded a little as he looked back down at the floor.
“So, it’s not really important. Plus Chuck’s mom left, like, right before. And that was a lot worse, you know? Chuck and Ellie loved their mom. My dad…”
Morgan pulled his legs up into a criss-cross pose, arms crossed around his torso.
“I mean, the guy didn’t even like me—isn’t that funny?” he grinned, “Me still getting all… all sad over it?”
Hands falling from their pose, Morgan stared down at his palms in his lap.
“My mom used to call me, and we’d talk for a while. Not—not about him, about other stuff. But with Big Mike being with her now… I guess she didn’t need me. And that’s fine! We’re both adults, and I h… hate him, but…”
Casey found no words in his chest as he watched Morgan begin to unravel at the seams.
“I just didn’t want to think about it today, and I was trying to distract myself—god, I’m so stupid!” he abruptly interjected, gesturing vaguely and tiredly, “I shouldn’t care! Not about someone like him!”
“Grimes—”
“He never liked me, so why do I—”
“Grimes—”
“—I shouldn’t be like this, this is why—”
“Morgan!” Casey raised his voice, and Morgan stopped all together, staring up at Casey. Casey couldn’t find the right words.
Morgan shrank in on himself. “Why do I miss people that hurt me, John?”
“You’re a good person,” Casey answered as honestly as he knew how, “You want people to like you, even if they’re dumb enough not to.”
“But I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t care so much. It’s not my fault—I know that.”
Casey hesitated, but gently put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder, “It’s okay, Morgan. You can’t change how you feel.”
“I feel bad.” Morgan admitted quietly, “What am I supposed to do?”
“You cry.” Casey spoke softly, clearly catching the smaller man off guard as he looked up at him, eyes big and sad and shiny. Casey just gave his shoulder a small squeeze. “You cry, Morgan.”
The silence felt heavy, barely disturbed by Morgan’s quiet “Oh” as he turned to look away. Though, Casey could see down the side of his face as a tear fell. As his breath hitched, and his whole body seemed to shudder against it all.
Gently, as if with a child, Casey pulled Morgan a little closer, and held on a little tighter. And Morgan just wept nearly silent tears. Knowing not what else to do, Casey simply stayed as still as he could, not letting go of Morgan.
It seemed to help, at least.