Chapter 6 #2
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, a cool hand was on his good shoulder, carefully squeezing. “Morgan?”
“Ty? Ah, fuck.” Morgan hissed as the pain from his little nap made itself clear. His migraine was creating spots across his vision, and the burn in his neck had spread across his entire upper back. “Fuck, ow, ow …”
“Morgan!”
He managed to open his eyes and found himself looking straight into Ty’s dark, fathomless gaze. His face was intent in a way that Morgan knew meant concern. “I need to get to town,” he managed through gritted teeth.
“I can take you,” Ty said immediately. “What do you need to bring?”
“Nothing but my wallet.” And maybe his phone, but that was all the way upstairs … nah.
“All right.” Strong hands made their way under his arm, and then Ty lifted Morgan to his feet with an ease that was almost uncanny.
Morgan opened his eyes just a sliver as they made their way down to the boat—Ty’s boat, not Phil’s even though Ty knew where the keys were.
Ty’s boat was bigger and would handle the waves between here and shore better, and Morgan took a minute to be thankful for the thought before they headed out.
It was a good thought, but it didn’t really work. Every little bump sent a new jolt of agony up the nerves in his neck and shoulder, and by the time they got to town, Morgan’s vision was swimming from the migraine. Spots floated in his eyes, blocking his vision, and his legs felt shaky.
He hated it. Just once, for fucking once, he’d like to be in good-enough condition to not need Ty to do things he shouldn’t have to do for him. This time, though … “Can you call an ambulance?” Morgan whispered to Ty.
“Mmm, I don’t have a phone,” Ty said, and—right, of course he didn’t. “I’ll get help. Stay here.”
Morgan managed a bitter little smile as he heard Ty get out of the boat and head quickly up the dock.
It wasn’t like he could go anywhere on his own right now.
***
There was no emergency room in town, but there was an urgent care, so after a brief conversation with the EMTs, that was where Morgan ended up.
Then there were muscle relaxants, better-quality painkillers, and an in-person visit from Dr. Simpson, who apparently didn’t mind walking two blocks over from his office to make their appointment.
“Once we get the pain and swelling under control, your physical therapist will be able to work on ways to release the nerve and strengthen the right muscles,” he said. “But I think that’s got to wait until you’re over the acute phase, so at least another few days.”
“Okay.” Morgan was almost ecstatic from how good it felt to be out of pain; he would have agreed to anything right then. “If you can recommend someone I can work with remotely, then—”
“Oh, son, no.” Dr. Simpson shook his bald head. “That’s not going to work, not in the short term, at least. Physical therapy goes way beyond rote exercise, and there are some very useful modalities that can only be done in person. You’re going to need to come in for visits.”
Fuck, not again. “I won’t be able to pilot the boat for that.”
“Then get Ty to bring you like he did today.” His doctor raised a brow. “Honestly, on these painkillers, you shouldn’t be behind the tiller of a boat anyway. The last thing you need is to get dumped back into the water when you accidentally run into a yacht.”
“He’s not going to want to spend so much time on me,” Morgan said a little desperately.
“You think? He’s in the waiting room right now.” Dr. Simpson stood up. “Why don’t we ask him?”
So he could say yes out of obligation? “I’ll ask him later,” Morgan insisted as he slowly pressed to his feet. His visit was done; the sooner he could fill his prescriptions and get back to the lighthouse to sleep, the better.
“If you say so.” They walked out into the waiting room together, where sure enough, Ty was sitting and looking distinctly uncomfortable under the bright fluorescent lights. He stood up the moment he saw Morgan.
“Are you all right?”
“I am. I will be,” he amended. “I just need to fill some prescriptions.”
“Let me take you.”
Dr. Simpson turned to look at Morgan as if to say, see? “We’ll meet again in a few weeks to discuss your progress,” he said. “The PT clinic will be expecting a call from you.” Then he left, and Moran was alone with Ty in this sterile, clinical space that didn’t suit him at all.
“What is PT?” Ty asked after a moment.
“Uh.” How did he not know this? “It’s physical therapy. Seeing someone to help me get my shoulder back to normal.”
“How often will you need it?”
“I don’t know yet. Look,” Morgan said as firmly as he could while a little loopy, “It’ll be fine. I’ll figure out a way to get here without—”
“Mmm, I’ll bring you.”
Morgan stopped trying to speak and just stared at Ty, who shifted on his feet but met his gaze without flinching. “Why?” he finally asked. “I don’t get it. I thought … you didn’t want to …”
Ty sighed. “Can I tell you at home?”
Yours or mine? But Morgan just nodded, and Ty took him by the hand and led him to the pharmacy, where he paid for more muscle relaxants and painkillers, then walked him back down to the dock, and damn, this place was really small, wasn’t it?
He hadn’t realized before how very tiny and walkable it was.
They stopped at the restaurant where Ty brought a daily catch for lunch, and the lady behind the counter looked up as soon as they walked in and said, “So that’s why you flew outta here in such a hurry this morning!”
“Hi, Donna.” Ty smiled at her, looking the most relaxed he’d been all day. “Sorry I couldn’t linger; I needed to get back to Morgan.”
What?
“It’s fine, honey, it’s fine.” She looked between them curiously. “Are you two stayin’ to eat, then?”
“Yes, please.”
“You bet. Sit anywhere you want, I’ll bring menus.”
They took a booth, and Morgan leaned back against the slick vinyl and closed his eyes.
He was hungry, but more than that he was so sleepy he felt like he could pass out right there.
Then he remembered the last time he’d napped while upright, and how badly that had turned out, so he blinked his eyes open and forced himself to look back at Ty, who was staring straight at him.
There was a flicker of something in his gaze, almost like his pupils were dilating, before he looked down again.
“The food is good here,” he promised. “And fast.”
“Good,” Morgan said—slurred, more like. “Because I’m not going to be able to stay awake much longer.”
Donna bustled over before Ty could say anything else, bearing a cherry-red smile and a pair of laminated menus. “The seafood chowder’s always good, but the special is from Ty’s catch,” she added with a little wink. “What can I set you boys up with?”
“Chowder, please,” Morgan said. “And a ginger ale.”
Ty nodded to indicate the same, but, “Just water for me.”
“Comin’ right up, boys.”
The food came fast, which was good because the silence was stultifying.
Morgan wanted to talk—about anything but why things had gotten strange so fast with them—but Ty was avoiding his gaze now, so they sat in silence until it was time to eat, and then he was too ravenous to do anything but awkwardly spoon soup and crackers into his mouth.
“It’s good,” he said when Donna came to check on him. “Thank you.”
“You bet, honey.” She refilled his ginger ale twice and didn’t even blink when he asked if she’d add a six-pack onto the bill.
By the time they made it back to Parrish Island, Morgan felt like he’d been hit with a hammer.
Even calm waters were no match for the ache in his shoulder, which had fired up again as soon as they’d set out.
He couldn’t have a serious conversation now, and luckily Ty didn’t seem in a rush, just helped him out of the boat and back up to the lighthouse in a mirror of what he’d done that morning.
Only this time, he didn’t stop at the door.
He helped Morgan inside and back to the bedroom that still didn’t really feel like his, sat him down on the bed, and even helped take his shoes off before Morgan could stop him.
Ty held up the bottles again. “Which ones can you have now?”
“Neither,” Morgan said tiredly. “I only get them once every twelve hours as needed.”
Ty frowned. “Mmm. You need to rest.”
“Yeah.” He was going to be out as soon as his head hit the pillow. “Thanks for taking me. Seriously, you don’t have to do all this for me, I can—”
“I’m sorry.”
Morgan blinked. “Excuse me?”
Ty looked down at the floor for a moment, his brow furrowed with …
guilt? Concern? Morgan couldn’t tell, but he didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry I went away,” he clarified. “You said something to me, and I left because I couldn’t handle thinking about it, and I worried you.
I worried you so much that you went away, and you were getting better before, but now you aren’t.
Now I’m worried about you, and …” His lips compressed for a moment, like it was physically hard for him to say what he was thinking about saying.
“You don’t have to worry,” Morgan said even though it was kind of nice that someone was worried about him.
Even nicer that it was Ty, in a way. He’d missed him—missed his easy presence and reading at night and his sly sense of humor.
Missed looking at him and seeing someone unlike anyone Morgan had ever known before, someone who touched his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Not that he’d say as much. “I shouldn’t have pushed. ”
Ty shook his head. “You didn’t push. You, mmm, you were fine.
You were doing what people do when they’re with someone they care for.
” Well, that was true but uncomfortably insightful.
“There’s something about me,” he continued, looking up but not quite making eye contact with Morgan.
“Something that explains why I need to be near the water, why I can’t go as far away as the mountains.
And I want to tell you, but I’m scared.”
It had to be some sort of psychiatric diagnosis. Morgan felt like a fucking heel. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he said even though he was admittedly curious. “But you also don’t have to be afraid of me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t mean to,” Ty said, which was close to agreement but also very, very far from it. “I’ll get there. I want you to know, I just need time. Please give me that while I stay with you here.”
Morgan opened his mouth, then shut it with a snap. What? “What?” he finally got out. “What do you mean, stay with me here?”
“You need help.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Ty narrowed his eyes. “You were better with my help before. Now you’re worse.”
“Just a rough patch. I’m—”
“Please.”
Shit, a look like that should be illegal. He made Morgan feel dirty just thinking about saying no, and yet—hadn’t he come here to avoid pity? And now he’d fallen right into being Ty’s pity project.
Then again … maybe Ty really was as lonely as Morgan. Maybe Ty got more out of his company than Morgan gave himself credit for. If that was true, then Ty was welcome, but …
“You can’t run out on me again,” Morgan said, dead serious now. “You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know what happened to you; all I knew was that you’d gone somewhere I couldn’t follow. You could have fallen into the water for all I could tell, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”
“I won’t,” Ty promised.
“And I won’t push you, but … look, if I make you uncomfortable by accident, just tell me.
Okay?” God, what Morgan wouldn’t give for a partner who just fucking communicated with him instead of hiding things and holding off the bad news until the bitter end.
Not that Ty was his partner the way Bentley had been, but the intent was the same.
“All I ask is that you talk to me even if it’s just to tell me to stop.
Don’t leave me guessing, and don’t give me a heart attack, okay? ”
Ty nodded. “Mmm, I won’t.” He smiled slightly. “Does that mean I can stay and help you?”
Morgan almost collapsed with relief. “Please do, yeah.” Even the thought of trying to cook for himself when his shoulder and neck were so fucked up made him want to curl up in a ball. Piloting a boat was out of the question. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Ty helped Morgan get his jacket off, then watched him bed down with a narrow gaze. “Are you sure you can’t have a painkiller yet?”
“Not yet. Just lying down is helping, though,” he added.
“Good. I’m going to make a run back to my home for a few things, but I’ll likely be back before you wake up.”
Morgan closed his eyes and nodded, already on the verge of falling asleep.
The pillow was soft under his head, giving where he needed it to be, and the pain was steadily ebbing from a sharp sting to a dull ache.
He exhaled, his whole body relaxing for what felt like the first time since he’d come back to the lighthouse from Ty’s place.
A cool hand briefly touched his forehead, but it wasn’t a clinical touch this time.
This was a gentle, almost tender drag of fingertips from his temple down his jaw before Ty finally stepped away.
Morgan didn’t hear him leave, which was exactly how he wanted it.