Two

 

 

“Breathe, Ten.  Take a breath for me, please.”

Ten’s eyes blinked open and he realized that he was still standing, still pressing Morgan’s body up against the wall.  Still had his arm across Morgan’s chest.  But Morgan’s piercing gaze no longer had fear in it. Now it only had concern.  Concern for Ten. 

What had he said?  Oh yeah, breathe.

Ten’s mouthed opened as he sucked in a breath.  He realized, as the dark spots began to fade from the corners of his eyes, that he must’ve been holding his breath for a while.

He wanted to move, wanted to take a step back, but he was afraid if he did that he would collapse onto the floor.

“I…..I can’t move,” he finally whispered.

“I’m going to touch you, Ten, okay?”

Ten looked into Morgan’s eyes and nodded.

Very slowly, Morgan raised his own hands and gripped both of Ten’s wrists. He gently pried them away and lowered them down by his hips. 

And that was when Ten’s knees buckled.

Morgan’s arm quickly wrapped around his waist, “Whoa there, buddy.  I’ve got you.  Let’s take a seat on the couch, yeah?”

Ten didn’t answer but Morgan didn’t need one. 

He walked them both over to the black suede sofa and sat down.  Well, Morgan sat.  Ten collapsed.

And then his hands started shaking.  Ten watched them as if they belonged to someone else.  “He’s dead, Morgan,” he whispered.

“I know, Ten.”

“I identified his body.”

“I know.  So, did I.”

Ten’s angry glare snapped up to Morgan, “What the fuck?  You identified his body, too?  When?”

“Before you did. There was a note in his file to contact me before contacting anyone else.”

“His file?  His file?  What fucking file?  He was a bartender for fucks sake!”

“Not when he was in the service. You knew that.  He’s got, he had, a limited information file in every police and government database in the US and a few elsewhere in the world.  It contained his basic information and a number to call if he was found deceased.  That number was mine.  The medical examiner in Tucson saw that the instant he ran Sawyer’s fingerprints and he called me.”

Ten frowned, “Why did you have to identify him first, Morg?”

Morgan sucked in his lower lip as he glanced down at his own hands.

“Why, Morg?” Ten demanded.

“He had information on, uh, in his body.”

“Where?”

Morgan pressed his left fingers into his right forearm, “Here. A capsule just beneath the surface of the skin.”

Ten saw red as he stared down at Morgan’s arm.  He knew his nostrils were flaring as he sucked air in and out through his nose like a pissed off bull, but he didn’t give a fuck. “So, what you’re saying is that, not all those cuts and bruises marring Sawyer’s beautiful body were made by his killers, that one of them was made by, by you?  Hadn’t he suffered enough? He was fucking beaten to death, you asshole!  And then, and then,” he sucked in a shaky breath, “you cut him up even more?”

“I, I’m sorry, Ten.  I had to.”

Ten’s breath sawed in and out of his lungs as he stared at the floor.

“Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to hit you now.”

Morgan stood up to his full six-foot-two height, “Yeah, I know,” he whispered.

Ten also pushed to his feet, his hands flexing and unflexing, drawing huge gulps of into his lungs.  His body trembled as he slowly dragged his eyes up to meet Morgan’s.  And then he drew his right fist back and slammed it into Morgan’s jaw.

Morgan’s body spun a one-eighty before he managed to catch himself on the arm of the couch.

Ten tried to shake out his hand, “Son of a bitch that fucking hurt!” he shouted.

“Tell me about it,” Morgan mumbled as he rubbed his hand over his jaw.  “Luther’s gonna be pissed that I can’t blow him for a few days.”

Morgan’s head turned and he stared at Ten with a wary glance, “We good, now?”

Ten’s hand rubbed at his chest, his eyes blinking back tears as he stared, “It hurts, Morg,” he whispered as he turned away.

“I know Ten.  And I’m so fucking sorry.  I really wish I didn’t have to do that.  I really wish Sawyer was still alive.  All of this blows fucking chunks.  But I need you now, Ten.  Bas needs you.”

A small smile lifted one corner of Ten’s mouth, “Blows chunks?  What are you, twelve?”

Morgan lifted a shoulder in a shrug, “Eh, it was the first thing that came to mind.  Are you with me now, Ten?”

“Yeah, I’m with you.  But you need to be honest with me from here on out.  You have to tell me everything.  Don’t give me that it’s classified bullshit.  You know I won’t go blabbing shit to anyone.  Hell, you’re pretty much the only person I fucking talk to.”

“Yeah, okay.  Work this place first.  Tell me what vibes you get from it and then we’ll talk.”

Ten nodded as he slid his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, I can do that.”  He turned around and glanced around the open room, “I can do this,” he mumbled to himself.