Missed Connections (64 page)

"Stop thanking me and go for god's sake!" she said with a laugh, throwing a handful of soapy water at him that he dodged easily. He grinned as he tore off his hair net and raced out of the kitchen and onto the streets.

It did him no good however. He searched all through downtown along with both the east and west sides of the city, including the police stations. Will even ventured a little into the upper class neighborhoods in the hopes that maybe Morgan had hidden in one of the parks there. He wandered into the dilapidated homeless camps scattered around, asking questions and flashing the picture of Morgan he had taken all those monthss ago on his first day at the soup kitchen, hoping that someone had seen him.

Most hadn't seen Morgan since the day before, lurking around in his alley a little while before Will had found him. But one man, face wrinkled with age and white brittle hair poking out around the edges of his old black hat, told Will he had seen Morgan very early that morning, talking to an older gentleman outside an apartment building on the corner of 10th and Washington.

But Will didn't know whether or not to take the man at his word. He had said Morgan had been walking a bike.

Will knew Morgan didn't own a bike. He knew how to ride one but didn't really have a need nor the funds for a bike. So either he had gotten his hands on a bike somehow and was... selling it, using it, trading it? Or the old man had mistaken him for someone else.

Judging by the age of the eyesight of the old man, Will was thinking it was the latter.

Nonetheless, a lead was a lead and Will searched every street and alley within a ten block radius of where the old man had claimed to see Morgan. There was nothing.

Will didn't sleep at all that night either, choosing to forgo it in favor of continuing the seemingly hopeless search. He knew his father probably wouldn't notice his absence and hoped that Carol wouldn't worry too much but it couldn't be helped. Morgan was more important.

The park a few blocks from the city lines was empty, not even its benches occupied by its usual homeless residences or the occasional drunkard. He knew it was much too far from the heart of the city, and that Morgan never came out this far if he could help it but maybe, maybe he truly wanted to get away. Or maybe he was in trouble and literally couldn't help it. Fear spiked through Will at that thought but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind, refusing to think that Morgan was anything but a little cold.

The sun was just starting to rise as Will walked toward the bridge over the canal that bordered the park. He couldn't help replaying that moment, the moment it all went to hell over and over in his head. It was torture, pure torture thinking of the past that he couldn't change but he really couldn't help it and most definitely deserved it. He screwed things up royally and was running out of options to fix it because he was running out of places to look. Morgan apparently didn't want to—or couldn't but he pushed that thought down again—be found.

It was as he paused in the middle of the bridge, looking out across the nearly dried up canal that he saw it. There, a few feet from the shallow water near the right wall—the side that bordered the road—was a broken bike, the front wheel bent completely at an angle.

Will's eyes widened, remembering the old man saying he had seen a man who resembled Morgan walking a bike early yesterday morning. Will was running across the bridge before he had even stopped to think it through and rounded the edge of the bridge to get a closer look.

The bike wasn't alone.

Will could see it was Morgan even before he began scrambling down the steep side of the canal. Somewhere in the back of his mind there was a voice telling him that even if he did reach Morgan without harm to himself, there was no way he would be able to get himself back out, let alone both of them. But at that moment he didn't care. All that mattered was Morgan.

"Morgs!" Will nearly shouted, skidding down on his knees the last few feet until he scrambled to a stop next to Morgan's sprawled body.

Will cursed as he finally took in Morgan, the bruises that decorated his face, the dried blood that matted his hair, not the mention the various rips and tears in his clothing—more than usual—that revealed injuries beneath. It might have been his imagination but he also thought Morgan's right arm was bent at an odd angle. He choked on a sob, taking in the broken form of the man he loved, not knowing if he was even still breathing. But he could see the steady if shallow movement of his chest expanding with each breath and let out a small sigh.

Morgan was alive.

Will did, however, have enough sense to dig out his phone and call an ambulance, fumbling out their location before ordering them to hurry. He wasn't sure how long Morgan had been out there but by the chilled temperature of his skin, it had been much too long.

"You're going to be ok Morgs. I'll make sure you're ok," he murmured, not sure who he was trying to reassure more, Morgan or himself as he shedded his heavy jacket and threw it over Morgan's freezing body. But if Morgan could hear him at all, he didn't show any sign.

The wait for the ambulance was the longest ten minutes of Will's life. He shivered and cried uncontrollably. He was still murmuring reassurances as the paramedics arrived and began the complicated dance of trying to extract them. From there it was all a blur of movement and voices and questions he really didn't have the answer to because he realized he had no idea what had happened to Morgan.

A blanket was draped over his shoulders at some point, before or after he was bundled into the ambulance, he really couldn't remember. But it was a small comfort as they barreled down the streets toward the hospital, the rising sun a shining beacon lighting their way.

Will was once again forced to wait upon arrival at the hospital. Granted, he spent the first few minutes begging and pleading with the nurses to just please let him back there, let him be with Morgan. He didn't want him to be alone, not now, not ever again. But they refused to let him go back, wouldn't even tell him anything, just had a nurse repeatedly tell him to sit down and they would talk to him in a moment. But a moment turned into ten, twenty then thirty minutes and he was about to demand some answers when a tall brunette woman whose name tag read Sarah, walked up to him and started asking him questions.

And he was still unable to give them proper answers.

"And what's your relation to the patient?" Sarah asked and Will really wished she would stop calling Morgan that, stop dumping him in with the rest of the ill and injured like he didn't fucking matter, like he wasn't a person.

"I'm his boyfriend," he answered confidently and with a slight bite. He wasn't really sure if he had used the right term because they had never really talked about it, never really had a reason to use such labels. But he knew that anything less and his visitation rights could be whittled down to none. "He doesn't have any family left."

She nodded, jotting down the info and adding a few extra notes of her own.

"Is he alright? Can I see him soon?" He asked, trying to take a peek at what Sarah had written down, desperate for any hint or sign that Morgan was going to be okay, that he was going to make a full recovery.

"The doctors are with him now. It'll be a while before anyone can see him."

"Just... tell them to do everything they can," Will said, trying to keep his voice from breaking and knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer if he was kept on edge like this much longer. "I'll pay for it, whatever he needs, just... make him better."

He suddenly felt very young in the face of such responsibility. And if Morgan decided to refuse his help with this, then he could just suck it up. This was one charity—as Morgan liked to call it—that Will wouldn't ever stop donating to.

The nurse gave him another nod before asking him for his license and medical card, both of which he handed over without hesitation. It took a few minutes but he was finally approved, like he knew he would be, and then treated with a lot more respect after. It was amazing how much a last name could inspire such change in peoples' behavior.

Hours rolled by with very little news even though he checked for it every ten minutes, watching as the nurse became more and more annoyed with him but unwilling to lose her temper around a Royce. He didn't mean to be a bother, but his anxiety and worry continued to rise with each minute that rolled by and it was becoming harder and harder to refrain from barreling through the doors to search for Morgan himself.

*~*~*

"Mr. Royce?" Will jumped at the sound of his name, forced out of his half-asleep state to find a doctor, a real white-lab-coat-wearing doctor. And he was so thankful to be getting some actual news that it took him a second to realize that the news might not be good.

He stood as the doctor approached, trying to gauge the look on the man's face for any sign of Morgan's condition. But the man's professional exterior hid any clues thoroughly, not relieving Will of his anxiety and only succeeding in raising it.

"You're here regarding—" the doctor checked his clipboard for a second, "—Morgan Emerson, is that correct."

Will nodded. "Yes, yes I'm his boyfriend. Is he going to be alright?" He vaguely worried that the desperation he felt was clearly displayed in his voice but decided he didn't care. Doctors were probably used to that sort of thing anyway.

"He'll be fine," the doctor said with a small reassuring smile, "just a bit banged up is all. Multiple scrapes and bruises, a few broken ribs, contusions, broken arm, concussion, hypothermia. The list is long but not too worrisome anymore." Will seriously begged to differ. It seemed quite worrisome to him. This was Morgan they were talking about. "We have reset the bones and immobilized them and patched up his other injuries. He should be fine in a couple of months given that he gets plenty of rest."

"Thank you, doctor," Will expressed, his gratitude completely sincere. "Can I see him now?"

"He's sleeping but I don't see why not."

The doctor led him through the large double doors and down the hall, turning left into the second to last room at the end. And although he had been told that Morgan was going to be just fine, Will still couldn't help but feel worried, thinking that maybe somewhere they had made a mistake and in actuality Morgan was more injured than they originally thought.

And the sight of Morgan didn't help quell that feeling.

There was just so much white covering his body, layers and layers wrapped tightly around a good portion of his exposed skin, including one around his head. His right arm was in a cast and secured close to his body in a soft sling. As he moved further into the room, the nurse that had been checking the monitor by the bed giving him a small smile before exiting the room quietly. Will could hear the heart monitor, the constant beep a reassuring sound to his ears. He sat down slowly in the chair situated conveniently close to the bed and gently clasped Morgan's warm hand.

Morgan was alive, Morgan was going to be fine. He had survived, just like he had been doing for the past two years on his own. Everything was going to be alright.

But the tears came anyway, unbidden and unwanted. And Will found himself unable to do anything but let them flow, let the relief and pain and anxiety and fear of the past few days wash down his face in a river of emotion. He lowered his gaze and stared at Morgan's hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze to reassure himself that Morgan was still there, still alive. He didn't think he would ever be able to take his eyes off Morgan again. He didn't really want to.

"Will?" The voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse and rough from disuse but completely familiar nonetheless. Will's head shot up, eyes immediately locking onto Morgan's own blue gaze as he stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Hey Morgs," Will greeted him with a relieved smile and another squeeze of his hand. He felt Morgan squeeze his hand weakly in return. "How are you feeling?"

Morgan moved his mouth in response but only a few indecipherable dry noises escaped. Will looked around, found a glass of water with a straw neatly placed on the bedside table, and leaned over to offer it up to Morgan.

"Ugh like I've been run over by a herd of cattle," Morgan groaned once he had moistened his throat and quenched his thirst. He attempted to move his right arm but soon gave up the futile endeavor when it refused to budge and he ended up wincing as he jostled it.

"Just about," Will chuckled, the tears in his eyes now ones of joy. "Do you remember what happened?"

Morgan didn't answer right away, his brow furrowed in confusion as he stared off into space, thinking. After a couple of beats, he seemed to break out of it and glanced down at the blanket covering his lap. "It's a bit fuzzy to be honest," he said sounding embarrassed.

"Alright, well what do you remember."

"I was…" He paused, eyes darting back and forth and his brow furrowed once more in thought. "... in your room, I think. You had left me there to go to school and then…" His eyes widened in horror suddenly and locked on Will's own. "Oh god, your dad came home and I panicked and just ran."

Will nodded in confirmation.

Morgan looked down then, lost in memories again. Will knew the exact second he found the moment that started it all, the scowl that took over and the hardness that crept into his eyes unmistakable. "I punched you."

"I deserved it."

"Yes, you did."

"I'm sorry, Morgs, I'm so so sorry. I should have never said those things. I never wanted to hurt you like that…" Will trailed off and looked down ashamed. But he quickly changed the subject before Morgan could voice any sort of forgiveness that Will knew he most certainly did not deserve, "Do you remember what happened after that?"

A beat passed, within which Will thought for sure his tactic would be circumvented but then  Morgan answered. "I... I was angry, spent the night…" he paused, searching his memories, "I don't remember, some park or something."

"Probably somewhere off your beaten track," Will remarked as he looked back up at Morgan. "I couldn't find you anywhere."