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It was Morgan’s turn.
He was on watch tonight.
The hospital was quiet on the ICU floor, not much happening as nurses wandered from room to room every few hours to check on their patients- to give more medications as needed.
He didn’t like being in the hospital as a visitor any more than he did as a patient but- but this particular time was… was so much worse. It would likely always be worse. The time he spent camping out in this hospital room one night a week for the last six weeks felt like torture…
…good.
Gus still didn’t look any better- at least not from last week. He did look a whole hell of a lot better than he did when Morgan had first driven his henchman to the hospital last month but… that wasn’t saying much because he still hadn’t woken up yet. The doctors had said that was to be expected. They had said due to the nature of his injuries he likely would be in a coma for months… but they were still optimistic that it would be ‘any day now’. They had been saying that for over three weeks…
Morgan wasn’t feeling all that optimistic. In fact, he was starting to feel downright sadistic. The longer he watched the slow rise and fall of Gus’ chest—Assisted. Don’t forget he still can’t breathe on his own—the longer he sat through a night of soft beep- beep- beeps from the heart monitor—a heart they had needed to restart four times—the longer he had to sit and wait for something good to finally happen… the worst his plans became.
He shouldn’t be thinking like this.
He knew that.
This was a slippery slope.
Planning not just one homicide but three was a dangerous thing. A reality shattering thing.
So. It’s not like my reality hasn’t already been shattered.
And he turned his head away- jerking away from the thought even as angry tears stung his eyes. That was selfish. He was being fucking selfish. He was supposed to be here for Gus- for Leilani, who was currently waiting at home- desperate for her husband to wake up, for Emily who just wanted to know where her daddy was, for Chuck who didn’t even know who his dad was yet… He was here for them. He needed to be here for them.
After all it was his fault their husband and dad was lying paralyzed in a hospital bed.
I should have just done what they asked- If I had just- just given in- bent the knee then—
But he shook that thought away too. It wouldn’t have helped. Complying with that gang of B-tiers wouldn’t have saved Gus- saved any of them. They wanted Carmine and his crew to become their lackeys- wanted Morgan to be their minion. If he had folded- had caved then all his crew would have been in far more danger- the slow creeping kind. The kind that corrodes and eats and would have driven them all back to their vices, ones they had fought tooth and nail to be free from.
Gus had told him once that he’d rather be dead than go back to drinking. It had almost ended his marriage once- had put his baby girl in danger more times than he ever should have, and he refused to put Leilani and Emily through that again.
Morgan had been the one he came to when he was ready to quit. He had been trying to for years, would swear he would give it up only to back slide a week later… He had wanted a way out. Had needed one- needed anything that was better than working for the mob. It was killing him- rotting him from the inside out… And then Morgan had offered him a job- at first it was temporary, but then it became full-time and it- it was finally something he had been proud of.
< “Trust me, Boss. I know how silly that sounds- me proud of being a henchman, but I am… I’m proud of the work we do- of our little team here. Proud to be somebody you took a chance on…” >
They’d both ended up pretty teary-eyed that day. And Morgan had volunteered to start taking him to AA. To go in or to just sit outside in the car. He offered to drive Gus to a different city for his meetings if he didn’t like any of the groups here. Had helped Gus get together with some doctors who specialized in recovery and then paid out of pocket just to make sure Gus wouldn’t have to worry about where the money was coming from.
Gus had celebrated two years sober the same day his wife had told him she was pregnant again. She was now six months along while taking care of a preschooler without her husband…
Morgan had paid for her mother’s plane tickets the second she had mentioned asking her mother to come out and help. Leilani had told him he didn’t need to do that. And he told her yes he did. Not just because he cared about her and Gus as friends but because it was in Gus’ contract. It was in all of his henchman’s contracts. He had gone over every clause in painstaking detail, had done everything he could to ensure his people would be able to take his estate (or likely which ever governmental body that seized his assets) to court and get what they were owed should the worst happen… He hadn’t expected this would be the way those clauses were used though.
He would take care of her though- her and Emily and soon to be baby Charles. He would do whatever they needed- get them whatever they asked. It was the very least he could do. Gus was beaten within an inch of his life- was tortured for hours and then dumped on his doorstep with a note stuck to him. Gus had been left as a message, likely one they hadn’t intended to survive, judging from the placement of their knife… but he would- he had. He had survived. He’d made it through the worst of it.
The worst of it? There is no worst of it. There is just it. It will be like this forever. He will never be free of this- will never get through this- will never be able to walk again-! …Because of me. Because I let it happen.
It was his fault. It would always be his fault. There was no way around that. Morgan had told them to fuck off and thought that was the end of it. Morgan had been the one to get cocky. Morgan had been the one to forget he wasn’t anyone special. He was the one who had forgotten that gravity still applied to him and now he was hitting the ground. Except I’m not the one who is paying for it…
Gus was his and they had tried to kill him because of it. They had used him as a pawn to get what they wanted from Morgan. But that was exactly why he had told them to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, because they didn’t see his people as people. He just hadn’t had the tact he should have- hadn’t been thinking that the rules still applied to him. But they do… I’m not Al—
Morgan swallowed down that thought and all the emotions that tried to swell up because of it. That didn’t matter right now. It couldn’t matter right now. He was too busy to be worrying about- about… nothing.
He shifted a little in the horrid hospital chair and tried not to let his eyes drift closed. He needed to be awake- alert in case Gus’ condition changed. They hadn’t wanted him to wake up alone- not after everything he had been through, so they had started these watches- started taking shifts so Gus wouldn’t be alone and so Leilani would always be the first to know when something changed…
So much was going to change now. About how he ran his crew- about their protection- about their safety. He wasn’t going to let them get another one of his crew- wasn’t going to let this happen again, no matter the cost. These fuckers had tried to kill one of his crew. Had tried to force Morgan to become their underling. They had dragged Morgan into this fight- had forced him into their world- to play by their rules…
Just like they wanted, right? Whispered that voice again.
The one that he liked to pretend didn’t exist. The one that liked hitting people. The one that liked the way it felt when he hurt someone. The one that knew exactly what he was really capable of…
But they wanted this- wanted me to play in the ‘big leagues’, right?
Well… I guess I’m gonna play then~
I’ll give them everything they asked for…
I’ll show them exactly why I choose to play by D-tier rules~
*Vrrt- Vrrt-!* *Vrrt- Vrrt-!*
And Morgan flinched at the sound- jerking out of his thoughts- out of the spiraling hatred and rage that was threatening to swallow him whole… the one that kept giving him the vilest of ideas…
*Vrrt- Vrrt-!* *Vrrt- Vrrt-!*
“...phone-” He muttered aloud, his voice hoarse from disuse, “Where’s my phone?”
He finally managed to pull it out from between the cushions of the chair and stared down at his screen in confusion.
It was a reminder- a calendar notification…
And then he felt his heart constrict- felt the way it tightened inside his chest like it was trying to stop itself from beating.
< Morgan’s Birthday Brunch!!!
Location: THE MOON MOTHERFUCKER >:)
Organizer: Alex
Time: All Day >
It was midnight and Alex hadn’t bothered to set a time or turn off the reminder before sharing the invite so… his phone was reminding him.
He- He remembered when Alex had made the event- it had only been a month or so after his last birthday, after the pudding balloons and the hilarity that had followed. Alex had been talking about getting lunch on the moon and Morgan had told him he was full of it. Alex had told him he wasn’t. It spawned a good-natured argument one that had been resolved by Alex making the event.
He said that if Morgan wasn’t gonna believe him already then he could wait another ten months until the Moon festivities were in full swing next February. He wanted his ‘rightness’ to have the biggest impact…
…Morgan swiped the notification closed.
He wasn’t really surprised.
Really, he wasn’t.
Morgan forgot his own birthday all the time. He wasn’t really surprised that Alex would forget about their plans. Alex was just… like that. It wasn’t that he was a liar or something, he usually meant what he said… for as long as he could remember he’d said it.
Alex had told him he was a priority not two weeks after they’d had their moon argument. Had helped stitch up Morgan’s side while he sat bleeding out on the floor of his bathroom. And then a little while later Morgan had made Alex chicken soup while he got over his alien snot monster cold. And then Alex had saved all of his crew’s lives.
They’d had to sort of sit down and have a chat with Morgan’s henchmen after that- had needed to reassure them that, yes, Alex was the Devourer, but no, he wasn’t going to hurt any of them. If fact he liked all of them quite a bit and had no issues stepping in to save their asses when needed…
…when he remembers to.
Morgan should have added that. Should have thought to tell them. It’s not like he didn’t know. Alex had told him exactly who he was- had never once bothered to hide it. He wasn’t big on long term, wasn’t one for grand schemes, wasn’t interested in making plans. He was just along for the ride… He was only in it as long as it suited him. He’d told Morgan that.
But he hadn’t listened. Or at least not well enough.
He avoided the news like the plague and had for the last several months. It had been all anyone cared about. ‘S-Tier Villain Goes Hero?’ ‘Alex Here to Save the Day Not Destroy It?’ ‘From Supervillain to Superhero’. It was all some people still cared about. Every time he did something- every person he helped, every cat he got out of a tree, every villain he stopped, it made front page news.
Alex’s departure from the villain world had left ripples in his wake- left a power vacuum behind that every idiot with a ski mask and a C-tier power was trying to capitalize on. Morgan had figured they would just ride it out… But he’d never been that lucky.
Gus’s chest rose and fell… the air still being pushed into his chest by a machine.
Alex had told Morgan point blank that one day he would hurt him… Had never tried to hide the fact… but Morgan had always figured he’d meant physically- had always assumed that it would be quick- that it would be an accident …but maybe that was just what I wanted him to mean.
Physical damage over emotional.
Quick over drawn out.
Accidental over apathetic.
Leave it to Alex to know exactly which ones would hurt me more… S-tier villain indeed.
Morgan hated being in the hospital…
…but at least no one would think twice about seeing him crying in one.
And to think, this still wasn’t even his worst birthday to date.