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“So. You’re me.”
Oh good, they’re finally getting somewhere.
Morgan nodded gamely. “Yep.”
“But from another dimension?”
Morgan squinted at a suspicious looking stain on the apartment’s ceiling. “That’s what it looks like.”
“And you’re a villain.”
He stared for a moment before cracking a smile and a breathy laugh. “Yeah.”
Hero-Morgan rubbed a hand over his face as he sucked in a harsh breath. “What the fuck,” he breathed out.
This wasn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to Morgan this week. That spot was still being held by the glitter apocalypse (because Alex had a screwed up idea of fun). It sounded fricking annoying and entirely harmless until you realized people could suffocate by breathing in enough glitter particles. Alex had laughed their ass off for days when people finally caught on to that fact.
“Hey, so I know you’re having a whole crisis here,” Morgan said, the cuffs on his wrists jingling as he raised his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of gesture he picked up from Alex that never failed to make Ohio stare at him for a bit. “And I don’t wanna interrupt but can I, like, get some coffee over here or something?”
Morgan gave it a couple hours before Alex noticed he was missing and came to get him. Maybe a day if they were distracted with something.
Hero-Morgan’s hand was still covering the bottom of his face when he finally moved it to say. “You know this isn’t a cafe right? And that you’re technically a prisoner right now?”
Morgan gave another shrug, glancing around them as if to ask why that mattered. “And? Prisoners still have rights, you know.”
Honestly, this was almost funny to see from the outside.
Morgan hadn’t even been tied to the chair he was in. Though, to be fair, any kind of fighting would be a pathetic display for both of them.
“I- you- you’re a villain! How did you even become a villain?!” Hero-Morgan yelled, gesturing wildly at all of him.
Morgan didn’t actually want to be having this conversation. “I dunno. It kind of just happened.”
“It just happened?” Hero-Morgan squinted like he knew he was being fucked with.
Morgan made a vague motion with his hand. “Yeah, you know. Life happened and all that.”
“I wouldn’t know actually,” his other self snarked from his moral high ground as if Morgan wasn’t 99.99% sure he’d also stolen a snickers bar from a convenience store when he was twelve. Bank robbing wasn’t much of a stretch from that, really, when you thought about it. “What about our parents?”
Morgan actually laughed at that. “Oh, yeah. They were- they were not happy with us.” Understatement of the year.
Hero-Morgan stared like he’s the most baffling thing he’d ever seen. “You didn’t want to make them proud?”
Perhaps what was most painful was his honest confusion. For two people that could almost be the same person they could not be further apart from understanding each other. Or maybe it was because they were so similar that neither one of them could comprehend why the other chose differently.
“Hoo boy,” Morgan said, sitting up more, absently fixing his denim jacket as he did, and keeping his eyes firmly down and away from the mirror image of his face. “You sure set yourself an impossible goal. I gave up on that a long time ago.”
Hero-Morgan pursed his lips quietly and didn’t respond—which was how Morgan knew he was right. Even in this world his parents wouldn’t be proud of him. As soon as his powers proved to be virtually useless he was only ever going to disappoint them.
Being an E-Rank Hero or a D-Rank Villain really wasn’t much of a difference for them in that regard.
For once being right didn’t feel good.
“… So is that a ‘no’ to coffee?”
Hero-Morgan put his face into his palms and screamed.
Well he didn’t need to be dramatic about it.
“So… do you- come here often?” Morgan asked when he finally got tired of the awkward silence sitting between them as they waited for—or rather, more of—the authorities to arrive.
“This is my apartment,” Hero-Morgan said flatly as he drank the coffee he refused to give to Morgan right in front of him. A surprisingly ruthless move from his hero counterpart.
“Wait, really?” Morgan said, looking around again and starting to recognize how the clutter filled the space. A familiar sight until Alex moved in and took over cleaning.
But also, oh wow, he thought; taking in the visible pipes, peeling wallpaper and water damaged floors. He’d kind of thought this was an abandoned base, or something. Not that someone actually lived here.
Apparently being a villain payed better than a low rank hero. Who knew?
(Higher ranking heroes tended to make six figures, at least.)
“… Wow,” Morgan couldn’t help but reiterate out loud with significantly more pity.
Who between the two of them was really the one making poor life decisions again?
Hero-Morgan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just- what do you want?”
“I’m bored!” Morgan definitely didn’t whine. “There’s nothing to do!”
Hero-Morgan stared at the ceiling like he was regretting every single instance that led to this moment. “This is just going to be what my whole day is like isn’t it?” He asked the uncaring world.
Morgan ignored that. “Come on, don’t you have anything to do? Monopoly, checkers, Yahtzee, something? Not chess,” he stipulated quickly.
Chess was the only game Alex was good at. And in true Alex fashion they tended to either be too good at something or spectacularly bad at it—with no middle ground to speak of. It was amusing to watch in action but it also made the outcome of their games a bit too predictable.
Because of their powers Alex technically didn’t actually need to learn how to do anything since the entire universe was beholden to their every whim. Which meant Alex only mastered the things that they cared about—because they wouldn’t settle for anything less than complete and utter mastery—and let anything else fall to the wayside. Ending with them having a confusing mishmash of skills and knowledge of varying practicality and extremely debatable importance.
Did Alex really need to know the placement of every bone and organ in the human body? No. Did the fact they did keep Morgan up at night sometimes? Yes. Did Alex consistently use that knowledge to torture their enemies? Also yes.
Hero-Morgan broke out of his existential dread to squint at him exasperatedly as he crossed his arms. “What do you have against chess?”
“I don’t know man. Do you have any idea how many chess analogies I’ve had to hear?” Morgan shot back.
Which was the same thing Alex had against chess despite being disgustingly good at it—mostly out of spite. And, okay, maybe a little bit because he was still bitter about how badly he kept losing to Alex.
It was countered with a flat look. “Not nearly as many as I’ve had to hear working with heroes.”
Morgan took a moment to consider that. And shudder internally at the idea of being in an enclosed space with so many heroes that weren’t his sister and Barnaby.
“You know what? That’s fair,” Morgan decided.
Honestly, so far he was seeing absolutely no benefits to being a hero.
“So, monopoly?” He tried.
Worth a shot.
Hero-Morgan heaved his biggest sigh yet. “For the last time: you are under arrest.”
“Oh, come on! It’s not like monopoly has ever killed someone.”
And for once Morgan was glad Alex wasn’t here to take that as a challenge.
Though it had gotten a bit dicey during family game nights a couple of times. Back when Morgan had still gone to family game nights. As it turned out, heroes were competitive bitches. Who could have possibly guessed that?
(That was sarcasm by the way. Morgan had figured that out by the tender age of five when everything in his life had to be made into a competition. Which he continually lost.)
“No.”
“What are you so worried about?” Morgan asked exasperatedly. “I’m literally you.”
“You’re me evil,” Hero-Morgan said as he threw his hands up.
“Oh, woah, okay,” Morgan said, making a stopping motion with his hands and incredibly offended, “that’s a bit harsh. I rob banks for living. It’s not like I’m a mass murderer.”
Though he had dated a few. And was best friends with one. … Who he also lived with. … And was technically married too.
Yeah, Morgan wasn’t helping his case here.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” Hero-Morgan blurted out finally like he couldn’t hold the words back anymore.
Morgan glanced pointedly down at his cuffed wrists and then around at the dilapidated apartment. “Not really,” he said frankly.
Hero-Morgan gave him the flattest look imaginable—like he couldn’t believe they were the same person (of sorts). “Not even figuring out how to get back to your dimension? That seems like it might be kind of important.”
Morgan pretended to think about that for a whole three seconds. “Nah,” he said, complete with a ‘whatever’ motion with his hand. “I already know how I’m getting back. I’m really just waiting for Alex to come pick me up.”
Morgan was very familiar with the look he was being given. It was the same one he gave Alex when they were insisting on not making any sense.
“Who the hell is Alex?” Hero-Morgan asked frankly with rising bafflement.
Morgan couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that pushed its way out. “You’ve never met Alex?”
Because chances were his alternate self knew of Alex and just hadn’t connected the dots. If Morgan was a nicer person this was where he’d mercifully give warning about the force of nature going to crash into his living room at some point but… nah.
“Apparently not,” Hero-Morgan said.
“Oh man,” Morgan breathed out with palpable amusement, taking a sip out of his newly liberated coffee cup.
Hero-Morgan tracked the motion, gaze falling down to his own, now empty, hand. “Hey!”
“I’m sorry, when was back-up supposed to arrive? Because it’s been, like, two hours and no one’s here yet,” Morgan said.
Hero-Morgan pinched the bridge of nose. “I don’t know. In twenty years maybe?” He sassed.
“God, heroes suck no matter what world I’m in,” Morgan reflected distantly.
“Hey!”
“You’re right. That was offensive to Barnaby. He’s never done anything wrong.”
Hero-Morgan stared into the distance over Morgan’s shoulder as he pressed a hand to the lower half of his face. “God, is this what it’s like dealing with me?” He asked with dawning realization. “Is this how other people feel?”
Morgan splayed out a palm. “I mean…”
“No, shut up,” Hero-Morgon swiftly shutdown.
Morgan sighed gustily. “No, but seriously, how long is this going to take? I didn’t get to eat lunch before I ended up here and I’m hungry.”
Hero-Morgan threw his hands up. “I don’t know! It’s not like my requests are a priority! I’m a sidekick. An E-Rank one at that! They’re probably busy doing something else important.”
Ah, yes, how could Morgan forget. Law enforcement requests were handled in order of Hero Ranking (with sidekicks and E-Ranks being at the very bottom of course, making Morgan at the bottom bottom) unless it was a matter of life and death. Chilling with an Alternate Version of yourself in your living room probably didn’t count.
More importantly:
“You’re a sidekick?” Morgan said, aghast.
This was the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Hero-Morgan stared at the ceiling like it might take mercy on him and cave-in and did not respond.
“Is there literally any benefit to being a hero?” Morgan asked. “Because I’m not going to lie, this is kind of sad.”
“Because being criticized by you of all people is exactly what I needed today,” Hero-Morgan muttered, rubbing a palm over his eyes.
Morgan couldn’t help but feel disproportionately offended at that. “Hey! I’m trying to help you know. I’m actually a semi-successful villain that owns an entire apartment complex and not…” Morgan made a vague gesture that somehow encompassed Hero-Morgan’s everything.
“How are you me?” Hero-Morgan asked plaintively.
Morgan leaned further back into his chair with lazy confidence. “Look, I’m just saying, one of us clearly made a wrong choice,” he smirked, “and frankly I don’t think it was me.”
Hero-Morgan looked to be contemplating the pros and cons of strangling someone for the first time. The pros seemed to be winning.
Morgan was saved by his phone ringing.
“One moment,” he said, fishing it out of his pocket.
It was Alex. He didn’t know why he’d expected anything else.
“Yeah?” He answered as his alternate version stared at him in disbelief.
“Where are you?” Alex demanded immediately. “You were supposed to be home like an hour ago and your heist couldn’t have taken that long.”
“Um.” Morgan glanced around to fully take in his situation. “Funny story actually. It turns out the exhibit next door to what I was stealing was actually a Dimension-Traveling Ray.” He paused because he knew he was never going to live this next part down. “That I got hit with.”
Hero-Morgan was back to staring up at the ceiling with tangible regret for having to be associated with him.
“You got teleported to another dimension and didn’t think to call me?” Alex asked, disproportionately offended.
“I mean. To be fair I didn’t even know my phone had interdimensional coverage,” Morgan said helplessly.
“Morgan,” Alex said with forced patience that offended Morgan a lot because as far as he was concerned the one making a show of infinite patience was him. “What’s the point of having a phone if it doesn’t make interdimensional calls?”
A familiar cocktail of suspended disbelief, exasperation, and some offense boiled up in Morgan. “You do know that for most people interdimensional travel isn’t normal right?”
Sometimes Alex forgot their experiences weren’t actually universal.
“Yeah,” Alex said with customary bluntness. “But you know me. And for me, it is.”
Couldn’t argue with that. It was absolutely infuriating that they had a point though.
“Can you come get me or not?” Morgan asked finally, thoroughly done.
A heavy sigh filtered in from the other side of the phone. As if having to use their unlimited godlike powers was a huge inconvenience for Alex.
They were such an asshole sometimes.
“Yeah,” they said reluctantly with plain disinterest in their voice. “Yeah, I guess I can do that. Give me a sec.”
The sound of fingers snapping met Morgan’s ear.
It literally only took a second before Morgan was back in his own living room.
“Oh thank god,” Morgan breathed—until he realized he was still handcuffed.
Alex raised an eyebrow at it. “Kinky.”
Morgan rolled his eyes as he held up his wrists. “Are you going to help with this too?”
Alex’s gold eyes lingered on them for a moment. “You know, normally I would.” They grinned lopsidedly, terrifying and unhinged. “But I think it’ll be much more entertaining to watch you struggle with them on.”
Again, because it needed to be reiterated, what an asshole.
“Oh, come on!” Morgan groaned unrepentantly. “I already had to deal with a version of myself as a hero sidekick! Can’t you give me a break?”
“Oh, was that the dimension you ended up in?” Alex asked, already reverting back to their normal predatory vibe of lazy disinterest.
They didn’t sound the least bit surprised. Morgan would never know how much Alex knew about something. It could be everything, or it could be nothing because Alex was the only person Morgan knew that liked to make everything harder on themself than it needed to be.
Morgan collapsed face first onto his couch. Home sweet home.
“Yeah. I guess we didn’t know each other there,” Morgan mentioned off-handedly, unsure what he thought of it.
Alex, because they could be helpful when they wanted to be, on occasion, put down a plate of food in front of Morgan on the living room table. Oh thank god. If Alex was literally anyone else Morgan might have professed his undying love for them there and then.
Alex took a lazy sip out of the mug they were holding. Morgan didn’t ask what they were drinking because more often than not he hadn’t actually wanted to know.
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that. They’ll meet next year,” Alex said dismissively.
Morgan didn’t ask how he knew that.
“Oh? How?” A much better question to ask. And one that might actually get answered.
“Oh, uh, in the Eternity Area,” Alex said casually.
Morgan stared at him for a moment. Alex took another drink of unidentifiable liquid, expression neutral. Morgan burst out laughing.
Alex’s expression didn’t change as they lowered the mug from their mouth.
“Oh, wait, you’re serious,” Morgan realized, which was horrifying.
Alex glanced down into their mug like it held the secrets of the universe. “Yeah,” they said bluntly, voice distant like they were seeing something Morgan couldn’t.
“How would I even survive?” Morgan wondered aloud, mystified.
“Eh,” Alex said, abruptly casual now that they’d done their damage, “don’t worry about it. It’ll all work out.” They wore a sly grin that spoke of mischief and meant ‘eventually’.
Alex had yet to meet a fire they wouldn’t throw gasoline on.
Morgan stared at them. “Have I ever told you that it’s terrifying when you try to be positive? Because it’s actually terrifying.”
Alex smiled with far too many teeth. “You haven’t actually,” they said frankly before promptly switching gears into something more genuinely curious. Shifting moods as rapidly as they did powers. “-Anyway, did you need me to feed you?”
Morgan glanced down at his food and then at his bound wrists blankly. “On second thought, I think I’d rather starve,” he decided, completely reasonably.
Alex smiled, coaxing and perfectly unnerving. “Oh come on, don’t be like that-“