Chapter Text
Morgan didn’t know people could be so warm. His frozen fingers, tucked between his chest and Alex’s, slowly regained feeling. He melted into the scratchy hospital bed, his soft breath going deep and even. Warmth seeped through every part of his body. He flitted in and out of the depths of slumber until a familiar voice pulled him back to reality.
“Morgan? Are you sleeping?” Alex asked, his warm breath a dull tickle next to Morgan’s ear.
“Yes. Obviously.” Morgan slurred as he squinted his eyes open. He found himself staring at Alex’s bare chest.
“I think your parents are coming,” Alex said in a half-whisper.
“Shit,” said Morgan. He pulled away, nearly falling off the hospital bed as he did.
“You don’t have to see them if you don’t want,” said Alex, who uncurled himself and stretched his arms above his head like a lazy cat. His skin was oddly unmarred compared to Morgan’s own. Where Morgan was covered in bruises and scars Alex was a blank slate, as if nothing had ever hurt him. Morgan tore his eyes away when Alex looked back at him.
“I do. Even if I locked the door they’d just break it down.”
“What if you weren’t here?”
“They’d find me.”
“They have a lot of enemies, don’t they?” Alex said, a strange glint in his eyes.
“Sure,” said Morgan with a shrug. “You want to call one of them up to fight? I guess they’d be distracted for a while.
“Maybe one of them already broke in.”
“What are you talking about?”
Alex held his hand out. “Trust me?”
The sound of footsteps echoed outside in the hall.
“‘More than my parents,” Morgan said as he twined his fingers with Alex’s.
“High praise.”
There was a brief flash of light and electricity all around them. Then the bed disappeared. Morgan fell forward. His hands shot out reflexively, palms striking rough dirt. His injured leg seared with pain as it hit the ground. He barely suppressed a whimper of pain bubbling in his throat. He realized it wasn’t just dirt he landed in but a scattered pile of straw. The sudden, earthy scent of animals invaded his nostrils.
“Sorry about that,” Alex said. “I should have warned you.” He was already standing to brush the dirt from his knees. It took Morgan several moments to realize they were in the middle of a barn. Several goats eyed them from outside the big red doors.
“Where the hell are we?” Morgan asked.
“My parents farm,” said Alex. He offered a hand to help Morgan up, but Morgan’s pride didn’t let him take it. Thankfully his crutches had come along for the ride. He grabbed them and forced himself up on his pained leg, hiding a wince as he did.
“So you can teleport too?”
“I’m a man of many gifts,” Alex said with a smile that had to be practiced.
Morgan snorted and awkwardly brushed himself off. He tucked his crutches under his arms and hopped over the uneven dirt. Alex hovered close by, never straying out of arms reach.
A warm breeze brushed across Morgan’s face as they stepped out of the barn's shade. A lone white house sat at the end of a dirt road. It was the type of house that only appeared in old movies, with a wrap around porch and a woven blanket draped across a creaking rocking chair.
They made their way across the barn and down a well worn dirt path to the house. Alex walked slowly, though he at least made an effort to look inconspicuous as he paused beside every wildflower to examine it.
“You don’t seem like a farm boy,” Morgan said only to break the silence.”
“I’m not. I guess neither of us take after our parents.”
“Thank god for small blessings,” said Morgan, but even as he walked he gazed wistfully at the open pastures. There were no signs of civilization in sight, just the barns and a quiet old house nestled between the fields. “How are they going to feel about you showing up with, you know-?”
“My mom will make a fuss and my dad will break out the board games. I hope you like scrabble.”
“Seriously?”
“Just you wait,” said Alex, flashing his practiced smile once again.
A sense of unease started to crawl over morgan. He realized then that he really didn’t know Alex at all, and he knew his parents even less. He wondered if it was too late to flee, to demand Alex take him back to the hospital and come up with some half baked explanation about where he’d been.
Alex must have noticed the sudden shift in Morgan’s expression. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the front door suddenly swinging open.
A tall woman with crimson eyes stepped out onto the porch. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, her checkered apron covered in flour. The familiar nose and the shape of her cheeks made it obvious she was Alex’s mom.
“Alex Xander Stewart,” the woman said, her hands resting on her hips. “You can’t just disappear from work and turn your phone off. I was worried sick!”
Morgan bristled. He knew that tone. He hated that tone. Every nerve in his body screamed to get away. He practically shrunk behind Alex. His heart thudded in his chest.
“Sorry mom,” said Alex. “It must have died.”
“Don’t scare me like that again,” said Alex’s
Mother, striding down the porch.
Morgan cringed. He looked away, towards the ground, and tensed his shoulders, waiting for the sound of Mrs. Stewart’s hand across Alex’s cheek.
“Mom, stop!” Alex groaned.
Morgan’s eyes flicked back. He couldn’t help it. But what he saw wasn’t at all what he expected. Mrs. Stewart cupped her sons head in her hands, flour dusted fingers leaving white smears across his face. She peppered his forehead and cheeks in kisses. He lightly pushed her back, despite his groan he was smiling.
Morgan’s anxiety turned to confusion and discomfort. She had sounded so angry before, and now she was kissing Alex as if nothing happened. Maybe she was just being kind for Morgan’s sake, whatever it was, Morgan didn’t trust it.
“I had to pick up a friend,” Alex said as he finally managed to pull away.
Mrs. Stewart looked over at him. Her crimson eyes were soft and warm, like cherry pie or a cozy sweater.
“Oh my dear, what happened to you?” Her smile faded to a frown as she took in the cast and crutches.
Morgan opened his mouth to speak but the words stuck like molasses in his throat.
“Can Morgan stay for a little while?” Alex asked after the silence lapsed for just a second too long.
“Of course,” said Mrs. Stewart. “Do you need help up the stairs, dear?”
“I’m fine,” said Morgan. He was grateful when the Stewart’s turned their back on him and let him hobble up the steps on his own. “Can I use your restroom?”
“Of course, it’s to the left,” said Mrs. Stewart.
Morgan nodded, stepping into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He let out a deep but soundless sigh, overtly aware of every noise he made, and the footsteps just outside the door.
I can do this, he thought to himself. I can do this. It’s just a mom. Moms aren’t scary.