Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 27
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 27
Morgan had been joking before about a visit from Andrea’s parents. Now, she hungered for it. Lying in bed looking at the ceiling was just not her. One day after another dragged by, intermingled with hurried visits from colleagues and well wishers who knew her dad. The pain killers were slowly being withdrawn and the nagging pain was pissing her off.
The massive bruise on her back from the flying metal was a constant source of irritation and agony and she was hard pressed not to wriggle around to find a more comfortable position. Back, front, side, there was no part of her body that was unaffected. Maybe they should just hang her upside down from her ankles.
Her knee, however, was causing concern. Fluid began to build up in the joint, causing a great deal of pain and swelling. She was pumped full of drugs, including anti-inflammatories, in an effort to reduce the swelling, and it eventually responded after a few nervous days.
Henry had been her guardian angel. He visited often, bringing her mail from home. He had cleared out the fridge of perishables and anything else that looked like it was trying to claim her home as its own. He brought books, including the one that she had started not long ago, magazines and a pack of cards. He even supplied her with a Gameboy and an iPod. She was appreciative of the music, although she could have done without Barney singing. She only hoped that his kids weren’t suffering because of it. The Gameboy, however, was unnecessary at this point because she needed two hands to use it. Two working hands. Would she ever have that again? What she wouldn’t give for two hands.
* * *
Just as she was contemplating Andrea’s return a small man stood at the entrance to her room. “Morgan.”
“Mr. Vaughan. Come in.”
He sighed. “Arthur.”
“Arthur,” she murmured. She just couldn’t get used to calling him by his first name. “Please, sit down.” She looked at his almost guilty face. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“I shouldn’t?”
“No. You have done a lot for me Morgan and I am in your debt.”
“Arthur, I put your child in jail. You should be cursing me right now.” Sad blue eyes looked up into hers.
“I should have seen this coming…” He held up a hand. “No, before you speak, I had known Chelsea was getting out of hand. I just didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”
“No one could have foreseen this, Arthur.”
“She was my child and therefore my responsibility. I’m just so, so sorry that you had to suffer because of it.” His eyes welled up looking at the battered woman in the hospital bed. “Oh God, Morgan, I would never have forgiven myself if her plan had succeeded.”
Morgan couldn’t stop the words from slipping out her mouth. She had to know. “Why, Arthur? I don’t understand. Why me?”
“Why?” He sat on the edge of the seat, a posy of flowers shaking in his hand. “Why? You know, I’ve asked myself that very question many times since the day I laid eyes on you. I don’t know. I really don’t. I saw something in you that called to a part of me that couldn’t ignore the plea.”
Morgan couldn’t argue with that. She felt the same way. “Now you know why I helped you, Arthur. I can’t explain it either.”
He smiled gently, his eyes rising to the ceiling. “Maybe someone up there wanted us to get together.”
Morgan’s first thought went to her dad. “Maybe someone did.”
“And maybe you are the daughter I wish I had, Morgan.” He guardedly looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction. He would love Chelsea to his dying day but she never really made use of the opportunities she was given, prone to rebellious behavior and snobbishness. And marrying Connie didn’t help matters, forcing Chelsea to move out of the house into her own apartment. From the moment he saw her, Arthur knew that Morgan would be a daughter to be proud of. Call him selfish, but he wished for that second daughter right now.
“I don’t know if I can live up to that Arthur.” Morgan was not ready just quite yet to replace her dad.
“Can we at least be friends?”
And then what? Start out as friends and end up as relations? “I don’t know…”
“Please…”
Morgan was lost as soon as she looked into those pleading eyes. Their connection reared its head and she was bound to accept. “Alright Arthur… friends.” She smiled gently. “Just don’t expect me to fix your chauffeur’s parking tickets, alright?”
The elderly man threw back his head and laughed, more from relief than anything else. “I can live with that. Is there anything you need?”
“Don’t go out spoiling me Arthur. I’ll never live it down.”
“Do you mind me visiting you from time to time?”
“Arthur, in a week or two I’ll be screaming for you to stay. It might be advisable though to call first in case I’m at physio.”
He quietly snickered. “Alright then.” The duty nurse came in to take Morgan’s blood pressure and removed the posy to put into some water. “Do you mind telling me what happened? No one will talk to me.”
“Are you really sure you want to know it all, Arthur? Perhaps ignorance is bliss in this instance.”
“No, I need to know. How far did I lose my daughter?”
So Morgan proceeded to tell him everything, sparing nothing because he wanted to know. How could a child wander so far from the path without the parents knowing? Morgan suspected that Arthur was a good parent, just not a very observant one. He loved his daughter, that was painfully obvious, but he had lost control of her, his money only feeding the flames of her destructive nature.
Could she come to love this man as a surrogate parent? Deep inside she felt she would consider it, but only as a pretend one. No one could ever replace her dad. Not ever. Arthur was a gentle loving man surrounded by people abusing his trust and his money. He was an old man just looking for someone to love him as a father or a husband and for him to love back. She could sympathize with that. She missed her dad terribly and all those nights after work they would spend together just talking, or playing cards, or even just having a beer in front of the TV. Some nights were very lonely indeed. But… but she was not ready to take that step just yet.
“So what are you going to do about her?”
“I honestly don’t know. She has legal representation.”
“But you could afford the best, Arthur.” Why was she giving him the means to get her off? Morgan was kicking herself inside for even suggesting such a move.
“Ahhh, now there’s the dilemma. Do I let her go to jail to learn there are consequences to her actions or do I use all means possible to get her off but she learns nothing about paying for her mistakes?”
“It sounds like you’ve already made your mind up.”
“I suppose I have but, Morgan, she is still my child. What do I do?”
“I can’t help you there, Arthur. You’re going to have to make this decision on your own.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I only wish there was a simple answer to this.”
“The important ones are never simple.”
Arthur smiled sweetly. “Such a wise head on those young shoulders, Morgan.”
“I’ve got an old head, that’d be right.”
“Ahhh, you could keep me young at heart, young woman. You are priceless.”
“That’s why no one will buy me.”
“I’m sure there is someone out there who will pay the price.” His eyes twinkled at her. Did everyone know about this? This had to be the worst kept secret in history.
Arthur stayed a while longer, talking about work, life and expectations over a cup of coffee. Despite herself, Morgan thoroughly enjoyed his company, knowing that this man would become important to her in the days, weeks, months and years ahead. Arthur was one in a million.
* * *
The moment she had been holding out for arrived. Dale had returned, standing in the doorway to her room with Henry, who had given Morgan a quick call to say they were on their way. She could see by the tears welling up in Andrea’s eyes that she was not a pretty picture. The bruises were now fully visible, turning from dark blue and black to putrid shades of green and yellow. She could finally see out of her second eye and was glad that no one could sneak up on her anymore. She nearly flattened someone for doing just that the other day.
“Oh God.” Andrea’s heart broke at the state of her friend. The extent of her injuries was now painfully obvious, each and every blow inflicted painted on her skin in glorious color.
“Nice to see you too.” Morgan tried to smile but the stitches in her lip stopped a grin, instead restricting her to a lopsided smirk.
The sad attempt at a smile made the situation worse for Andrea, the tears swimming in her eyes finally falling. She rushed over to the bed. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
“He’s not here, Andrea. Only me.” The redhead tried to make light of the situation before it deteriorated into a crying fest. “Cheer up. It’s all over now.”
“But… but, look at you.”
“I suppose I’m lucky then that I can’t. So, how’s your family?”
The small blonde sniffled, swiping away the moisture from her face. “They’re okay. Still trying to talk some sense into me. I finally gave up and came home.”
“Home?” Hope springs eternal they say, and hope was certainly hopping around like a demented rabbit inside Morgan.
“Yeah, home.”
Henry watched the two of them then left quietly, going in search of a coffee while they talked.
“I was wondering…”
“Wondering what?”
“Where your home was. I… I thought you had left for good.”
Andrea was astonished. “Left you? I don’t think so. I’ve just got you where I want you and you think I would have left it at that? Oh no no no no no. I don’t give up that easily, Detective.” She was a little pissed at how her visit to Charleston came about. “That partner of yours shanghaied me! I could have killed him!” Andrea stood, pacing erratically around the bed. “Damnit, Morgan. Why did he do that? You were badly injured and he just kidnapped me and sent me home.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“What about how I felt, huh? Here you were lying in bed and I’m thousands of miles away wondering what the hell is going on.”
“Calm down. You‘re here now.” Morgan tried to smile but the pain got the better of her.
“Oh God…” More tears filled those dark eyes. The prone woman was trying to smile but it came out as a lopsided grin… a very endearing pose. Andrea felt her heart clutch at the sight.
“If you say so.” Morgan was touched by the young woman’s entreaties. She meant something to her after all.
“I tried to mend some bridges with my parents but got tired of the whole thing. It was hard to concentrate in Charleston when my mind was in New York, so I came home.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Good. So what does the doctor say?”
“It’s all gonna depend on the knee I’m afraid. As soon as the swelling is down he wants to start me on physiotherapy.”
“How long?”
“He wouldn’t say directly, but if everything goes to plan and there are no complications, another two weeks in here then at home for another two. He’ll review me again after that to decide when I can go back to work. What about you?”
“Me? The stitches came out while I was here. I’m back on light duties at the precinct and things are settling down nicely. I get a little niggle every now and then but otherwise I’m fine.” She looked down at the wreck of a woman. “Certainly better than you.”
“Stop that.”
“But… but…”
The reclining woman grabbed Andrea’s hand. “Listen to me… honey.” Morgan smiled gently at the blonde’s lone tear. “I would do it again in a heartbeat. I told you I would protect you and I did. No regrets, Andrea. No regrets.”
“Andrea. You keep calling me that. Why?”
“Andy sounds so… boyish. Andrea is a very sexy name.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” She whispered. Fatigue slowly seeped into her weary body as emerald eyes quickly disappeared under drooping eyelids. Andrea sat there as Morgan slept, and that was how Henry found them.
In an angry whisper, Andrea attacked Henry. “I have a bone to pick with you mister. What was the big idea of sending me home? You know damned well I didn’t want to go!”
“Calm down!”
“Everyone is telling to me calm down!” Her voice rose to an agonized cry. “What is going on?”
“The Captain just thought it would be a good idea to separate you two for a little while.”
“And how was that going to help us?”
“At that point there was a lot of attention on my partner from her fellow workers and the upper brass. You two together was just going to complicate things.”
Andrea stopped her pacing. He had a point and she didn’t think of that. Of course she didn’t, her emotion was too involved to notice such things. “Hmmmm…”
“One of us had to be thinking straight.”
“And it wasn’t you, my friend.”
“No… no, it wasn’t. I didn’t want to do it Andy, I hope you realize that, but he did have a point. You hanging around her bed was only going to add fuel to the fire.”
“Fine, but when she wakes up you’re gonna have to tell her.” She couldn’t help but smile when Henry’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.
* * *
Morgan was about to slit her wrists. The last two weeks had tested the last of her patience as she was pushed and prodded, folded and twisted and just about baked in an oven in an effort to get her back on her feet. Physiotherapy was agony and she loathed it, but one more step was one step further out the door of the hospital so she persisted. She couldn’t fault the medical staff attending to her every need… well, every need but one. She wanted to go home.
It wasn’t until Henry offered to look after her that the doctor relented. Suzie had instructed her poor husband not to come home without her. It was bad enough that he was the deliverer of his boss’s underwear, now he was going to be her babysitter as well. If it got her out of the hospital then so be it, but after one week of being around the kids, Morgan was ready to reverse her decision. How could so much noise come out of such a tiny body?
Her days were filled with traveling and physiotherapy, both of which were very painful indeed. At the end of her allotted four weeks she was walking gingerly with the aid of a stick and the cast was off her wrist, replaced by a brace to support any lifting she did with the hand.
* * *
Andrea finally bit the bullet and found an apartment. Morgan went with Henry to ‘supervise’, which sounded far better than being called a lazy bum watching everyone else work. At best she made the coffee, which seemed to please the others, their praise making her not feel like a complete loser.
The apartment made her head spin. The rent on the place must have been astronomical and she was not game to ask. Situated in upper Manhattan it was a furnished place which was very tastefully decorated with expensive pieces. It spelled R-I-C-H and Morgan felt decidedly depressed. Her place spelled D-U-M-P.
A small framed picture caught her eye that day, showing Andrea with a small child. Pain lanced through her heart at the image. Who was this? After all this time had Andrea still held back one more secret?
The counselor watched Morgan from across the room, taking in the furrow on her brow. Slowly she sauntered the few feet separating them. “What’s wrong?”
“Who’s this?” The words tumbled from her mouth unheeded.
Andrea sensed something was wrong by the tenseness in the detective’s voice. She took the picture out of Morgan’s hands and glanced at the photo. “He’s my angel…” she muttered.
Angel? “Is…” Morgan faltered. She wanted to know but she didn’t want to know. It was like walking on broken glass, suffering the pain to get to her final destination. She drew in a deep breath as if bracing herself for heartache. “Is he your son?”
“My son? Where on earth did you get an idea like that?” A long finger tapped the frame she was holding. “Oh. No! No, he’s my little brother, Beau.”
Morgan released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “And why is he your angel? That’s a bit… intimate don’t you think?”
Andrea moved to a large stuffed chair, sitting down before she fell down, and forcing Morgan to follow her if she wanted the story. “This picture was taken before… Just after this picture was taken Beau was struck down with meningitis. It was so severe that it left him deaf and brain damaged.”
Oh God. Why had she brought the subject up? She knew the answer… because she was fearful that the counselor was hiding one more secret from her. That damned trust reared its ugly head again.
“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, but somehow it was just so inadequate at a time like this.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Andrea laughed gently. “It took me many hours of therapy to figure that one out.”
“So that’s where you learned sign language.”
“Yep. Not that he understands that much. He’s twelve now but mentally he lives at about five. It’s been slow progress but he is learning.”
“He wasn’t with your family at the hospital.”
“No, he doesn’t react well to changes. They thought it better for him to stay in his routine. He’s much happier that way. He’s such a sweet, sweet child, so young and innocent. He’s my angel.”
Morgan shifted so she was sitting beside the small blonde, her hand instinctively reaching out and holding Andrea’s hand in silent comfort. It seemed they both had secrets.
* * *
A week after Andrea had moved in the letter that Morgan had been waiting for arrived. She had only been home by herself for a day or two and she already missed the organized chaos of Henry’s house. Eagerly opening the letter she held the small piece of plastic in her hand as if it held the meaning of life. Maybe it did. She had been thinking a lot about the two of them in the last few weeks. She couldn’t do much else but think.
Timing was everything in this game of love. Was it too soon or too late? Should she take the counselor out on a date or just turn up on the doorstep with the card and say ‘there you go’? She rather suspected that Andrea would jump her no matter what she did, but Morgan was going for effect here.
Despite her bum knee and wrist, the detective thought the timing was right. Any longer and they’d be perfect strangers again, and there was no way she was going through all that all over again. The first time was traumatic enough to last ten lifetimes.
While a date would be the romantic thing to do, the thought of staggering through a restaurant with a walking stick would draw unwanted attention. All Andrea wanted to see was that damned card.
She lifted the item in question and studied it. Imprinted was her name. A lone finger traced the embossed letters, sliding over her identity. This was a part of her now and she knew very well the dangers of having such a card. In her line of work Morgan saw all the ways to abuse the privileges that the card imbued. It was time.
* * *
All the way over in the taxi Morgan’s mind carried on a serious discussion, her decision changing half a dozen times before she reached her destination. She had thought of phoning first but decided that spontaneity may add a little ‘spice’ to the situation. Andrea knew very well that Morgan didn’t go to lunch without a plan first. Then a backup plan if the first one proved unsuccessful.
The doorman had a good memory, remembering her from when they had moved the counselor in. She hobbled over to the elevators, her ungainly gait forcing her to stop once or twice to regain her equilibrium before she fell into the potted palms.
Insanely monotonous muzak filled the elevator, barely louder than the quiet hum of the machinery. Morgan looked at herself in the mirror. A hand came up to brush her short hair. She still couldn’t get used to it. It was like someone had planted a Harpo Marx wig on her head. Well, that’s what she thought anyway, despite the complimentary remarks she received yesterday when she visited work.
It was good to step through those doors again, pleased in the knowledge that she had been missed. Detectives and uniforms alike crowded around her like she was royalty, all asking questions that she could not make out. Even Clarence came from the front desk for a moment to ask after her. Nothing like a little ego stroking to make her feel a whole lot better.
The ding of the elevator drew her from her introspection, opening quietly to a luxurious corridor with wall to wall carpeting. The sight of all this opulence was making her nervous, nearly sending her running back home. Nearly. She reached into her pocket for her wallet, holding it in her sore hand for comfort. She wants me… she wants me. The silent litany was all that stood between her and the sidewalk.
Her finger hovered nervously over the doorbell. There was no reason to be anxious because the presentation of the card was a formality. Then why was she shaking with fear? Because her next step was going to make it all real. The card was tightly clenched between her fingers in preparation for the ‘handing over’ ceremony, as she began to think of it as.
Gathering her courage she pushed the button, hearing the dull ‘ding dong’. Footsteps approached the closed door and she anticipated seeing her blonde. The last person she expected to see was Joel. For a moment, she checked the number on the door, again looking at a disgustingly handsome man standing there with nothing but a towel around his waist.
“Errr… Joel?”
“Yeah?” She thought he would at least remember who stole his girl. His seemingly careless disregard of her was pissing her off.
“It’s Morgan… Morgan O’Callaghan.”
“Oh, you.” Yeah me, you moron. “What do you want?” He looked her up and down, pointedly looking at her walking stick.
“I’m here to see Andrea.” She expected some idiotic question to come from his mouth and he didn’t disappoint her. Who else would she be seeing?
“Andy, love. There’s someone here to see you.” Love? What was going on here?
“Who is it, sugar?” The melodic voice became louder as Andrea approached the open door. Morgan stood there in a dull haze, watching numbly as Andrea stood at the door in her bathrobe, Joel’s arm slung over her shoulder in an easy familiarity.
“Morgan, honey. You’re here.” But the tall detective didn’t hear the joy in her voice or see the welcoming sparkle in her eye. All she was seeing was Joel hanging himself all over her girl. Green eyes met those of her adversary, quietly seething as he smirked at her triumphantly.
“I… I’m sorry.” She had to get away before she fell apart. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Morgan?”
“Bye then.” Joel chuckled but was cut short by a short jab of Andrea’s elbow. “Owww!”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You must have done something.” Andrea could see the sly smirk on his face and knew something had transpired. Picking up the dropped credit card, Andrea returned to her apartment to get dressed. She needed to find Morgan.
The tall redhead stumbled across the lobby of Andrea’s apartment building, ignoring the pointed stares of passers by. As if punishing herself for trying to have a life her mind replayed the scene over and over again, her mind’s eye focused on Joel’s face. He had won and she had lost.
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