Cronus

CW: Sparse, brief language.

The building itself was old, owing its origin to the mid eighteenth century. Though it had been bought, owned and sold for well over a century by various buyers, its Victorian architecture was present, always hidden underneath. A constant presence. As one stood on the main floor, gazing up at the mural covered celling of bygone religious convictions, and was in particularly low spirits, or themselves lonesome, you could almost imagine yourself as some archaic lord or vampire. Which is how Leonard felt at the moment.

Though he was in low spirits and felt quite lonesome, the budling didn't encourage him in this, the main room itself being filled with guests who were already seated, or in line waiting, a faint omnipresent chatter filling the air. Leonard had very recently (as recently as a few hours ago) held the grand opening of his restaurant, "Leo's Dinning". Most of the evening so far had consisted of Leonard floating to and fro like a phantom, chatting with whomever summoned him. A fair amount of whom were critics, or people he suspected of being critics. Leonard's wife, Emily, would occasionally take him to the kitchen and speak words of encouragement to him.

"You've got this. They love it, and I'm not just saying that. I just spoke with Jack Taylor, and he went on about how much he loved the eggplant parmesan. It may have been ironic in a way though, but the sincerity was there. Underneath."

In addition to Emily, Leonard's brother, Allen, and his husband Harry, were also there to help. Help and eat.

As Leonard was summoned by an older couple, Allen came to him, whispering dread into his ears.

"M-morgan is here. Morgan Jones."

Leonard swallowed, smiling and excusing himself from the elderly couple and walking with Allen.

"I didn't know he was coming. Was he on the list?", Leonard asked.

"No, not that I know of. And I would know", Allen replied. "Also, I should say, Harry offered him some wine when he was seated, and I don't think he was that pleased. You know how Harry is, so take it with a bowel of salt, but apparently Morgan stared at the glass then said he didn't know this was one of those places.

Leonard sighed, then stopped. Up ahead was Morgan, seated at a table and seemingly conversing with Emily. Leonard breathed in, then approached the table.

"Mr. Jones", Leonard exclaimed with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here, when Allen told me I almost spit out my water."

"We'll, on the flip side", Morgan said. "If your water glass was as full as my Pinot noir, than at least you have plenty left to drink. You're not trying to get me drunk, are you Leo?"

Leonard laughs.

"Not unless you want to be."

"No, not yet", Morgan replied. "Night is still young and all, don't want to spoil my appetite for all the delicious delicacies I'm sure to feast on. Please, if you can spare a few minutes, take a seat. It's been...I think seven years since we've seen each other? Lets talk and catch up, I'm not getting any younger."

Leonard smiled, looking at Emily and Allen.

"We'll, we'll go tend to the other goings-on, sit with Mr. Jones and talk", Emily said. "It was nice seeing you, Mr. Jones."

"Likewise Emily", Morgan replied.

Leonard pulled out the chair, sitting down.

"So", Morgan said, gesturing around the room with a grin. "This is big. Big league big."

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily say that, but yeah, its...good. Better than I expected."

"Hm", Morgan responded , slightly nodding his head as he stared at Leonard. "Better than expected. Such an interesting saying. Revealing, I think. In a way."

"How so?", Leonard replied.

Morgan held his finger up, taking another sip of wine. After he had sat his glass down, he licked his bottom lip, the slightest drop of wine trickling down.

"We, at least as a society, but really, I think its deeper than that. Maybe on a fundamental species level. But anyways, we always expect the worse. Everyone. I would say most people if this was meant for the public, but it's just you and me, and we know how people are."

Leonard smiled, nodding his head a little. He gestured at the bottle of wine that sat on the table.

"Would you mind?", Leonard asked.

"No, no, help yourself. Being inebriated is always more fun with company, especially like minded company."

Leonard drily chuckled. He poured himself a little under half a glass and took two sips, the second one larger than the first.

"Why do you think humans are like that? If you have any theories."

Morgan chuckled lightly, after a moment the chuckling growing into full blown laughter.

"If I knew why people did the things they did, I wouldn't have became a chief, I would have become the next messiah. Better pay probably too."

Leonard let out a small laugh, genuine, by the rhythm of it.

"In all seriousness though, why wouldn't we?", Morgan said. "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. No it doesn't. It bends towards whatever. Time, to an outsiders perspective, like God or what have you, may be set in in stone, but to humans, everything's up in the air. Nothing is certain. Certainly not based on whatever "morals" we cling to."

Leonard looked at Morgan, not saying anything.

"Of course, I don't mean to disrespect the great Dr., or use him because of your-"

Morgan gestured at Leonard.

"-skin completion."

Leonard laughed a little, grabbing his glass but not drinking it. For some reason, as he looked at the red liquid inside, he wondered how much this specific bottle cost, and a small ball of strange ill feeling grew in him.

"I'm sure you didn't. Or, I know you didn't. For all your...many faults, racism isn't one of them."

Morgan grinned, his mouth stretching like a hyena.

"That's right. That's what you expect from-"

Morgan gestured broadly around the room.

"-these people. The yuppies, and city filth. Though, I must admit I myself am not much better, being a vampire and all."

"...these people?", Leonard replied, causing Morgan to laugh, even harder than his last.

"I'm a Jewish boy from West Virginia, and you're a black kid from Colorado. You know what I mean. Cut the fucking shit."

Leonard laughed, a thick laugh like Morgan, the type that stirs deep in your belly and erupts out, uncontrollable. Despite the fact that he hated Morgan, he found this to be the most oddly tranquil moment of the night so far.

"You know, and I know you do know since I've told you and Allen this a million times, but I opened my first restaurant in West Virginia in the eighties. Jones Baked Goods was the name. We specialized in bagels and other breakfast foods, mostly kosher. The shit I got those first few years was unbelievable."

Leonard looked at Morgan, his face slightly lowering.

"Jones look, I know how bad thing were for yo-"

"But business was good", Morgan continues. "I mean, it was shit at first, but it got good. Real good. But that first while....woof. Thick skin indeed. But that's what I mean. People...we're animals. Fallible. You, for instance. This was unexpected for me also. Not because you weren't talented, or didn't have the grit, but you were just...neurotic. Soft. Prone to only those worse types of thoughts that only a few men are plagued by. Like me. Which is why I didn't expect this."

Leonard stared at Morgan in silence, his lips breaking out into a slight smile.

"Just a moment ago, you called yourself a vampire", Leonard said.

"I did", Morgan replied.

"What do you mean?", Leonard said.

"Y-you know what I mean. You coined the term, or so I'm told. Year of twenty-twelve, you were a few months into your internship I believe. Couldn't stand me."

"I feel the sentiment was mutual", Leonard interjected.

Morgan stared at Leonard, not smiling.

"History of world deserts. That was the title of the course. You and Allen did it as a joint project I believe, though I know other students surely aided."

Leonard shifted in his seat, taking another sip of wine.

"Morgan-", Leonard said.

"Of course, the incident with Betty...it made me be absent for a awhile, wasn't there to supervise the project as much as I should have. Though, I admit upon observation only capable of being years away from something, I was never that supportive. Regardless of the tragedy. Anyways, come Monday, we're meeting at one of my New York delis, I don't remember which. You guys are already there, and I'm of course late. When I come in, the energy is festive, but I drag with me an aura of death, which I hadn't been able to shake yet. Maybe still not. You guys all peter down, and show me your presentations. Come your turn, the whole class goes quite, a few giggles scattered here and there. Allen drapes a cloak over my shoulders, and you bring the dish. Cherry jello cake. I cut into it and take a bite, the filling dripping from my lip. You say the dish is called Dracula, and say it's fit for a blood sucker like myself. I sit there as the group begins to chuckle, and what do I do? I take another bite because the dish is so fucking good."

Leonard is silent, only looking at Morgan.

"Morgan...I'm sorry. Truly, truly sorry I did the prank at that time. I didn't know about Betty, if I did...it never would have happened. That being said, I stand by it. I'm glad, in your old age-"

Morgan lightly chuckled.

"-that you have begun to realize how truly, truly terrible you were as a teacher. We...all of us, looked up to you. It doesn't really mean anything to me now, but I'm happy you're coming into these...revelations ."

Morgan laughed.

"Ouch, kid. Never afraid to go for the kill. I've always liked that. But I didn't come here for sympathy or forgiveness, I could care less about either. I came to tell you I'm dying."

Leonard's brows furrowed, as he took a sharp breath.

"I-what?"

"About a year ago, or a little under a year, I started feeling...I don't know, weak. Not myself. My skin was getting all...decayed. Like I'm a much older man than I already am. Droplets of blood falling out my nostrils at random times. Susie, you remember my daughter Susie, she recommended me to a doctor...and well, I guess I have cancer. Leukemia. Stage four, or so the doc claimed."

Leonard shook his head, a million thoughts running through it.

"I-Morgan, I'm so sorry."

Morgan smiled, waving away Leonard's concerns.

"Don't be. The game is over for all of us eventually. And I think, or at least want to think, that I've had a pretty good run."

Leonard stares at Morgan, a burning pit of guilt growing in his stomach.

"All meals. All appetizers. All drinks. On the house tonight. No...every day. For you and your family. It's the least I could do."

"Leo", Morgan said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't. Not with how I've been."

"No", Leonard replied sternly. "I'm doing this."

Morgan stared at Leonard, a smile on his face.

"Thank you, Leo."

"Of course", Leonard replied. "In fact, I'm starting it toni-"

"I would", Morgan said, getting up from his chair. "But I have to go. Susie is back in town, and I promised I'd spend some time with her."

"Well", Leonard said, sighing as he stood up. "If you have to go, go. I won't keep you. Know you're welcome back anytime though."

Morgan smiled at Leonard, nodding his head before departing. After he left, Leonard stood a good long while at the table, before going back to the kitchen, Emily there.

"Well", Emily said, eyebrows raised. "How did it go with the grinch?"

Leonard's face dropped as he shook his head.

"Good. Better than expected. But, I...Morgan's dying."

"What?", Emily replied.

"Stage four leukemia. Susie recommended him a doctor, and he spotted it. I was going to offer him a whole course on the house, but he had to leave to spend time with h-"

"Leonard, I just saw Susie a few days ago at the Farmer's Market, and she told me Morgan had told her a similar story so that she wouldn't go back to New York and leave him all by himself."

Leonard opened his mouth, then closed it.

"I-what?"

Emily sighed.

"You just got trolled, Leo. Morgan, he's not dying. Far from it. Cruel bastard will probably outlive us all."

Leonard stood, a barrage of thoughts and emotions assaulting him. Finally, he let out a small chuckle, which grew in fever and strength until he howled with laughter.

Morgan sped through the streets of Seattle, the roof of his convertible down, and the wind blowing his snow white hair. He wore shades, his eyes completely concealed as he cackled like a hyena, disappearing into the night.