Morgan knocked on Dean's front door later that afternoon, about an hour before she had to leave for work. His truck was still in the driveway where they'd left it the night before, and she wasn't sure whether that pleased her or angered her. She wanted to talk to him, but she didn't know if she could face him. Looking down at the red baseball cap she held in her hands, she felt like bawling. When there was no answer, she knocked again.

Adam answered it, the phone to his ear. He took one look at her, said into the phone, "I'll talk to you later," and hung up. "Morgan? Is something wrong? You look terrible."

She couldn't even bother to be irritated by his tactlessness. "Is Dean home?"

Adam shook his head. "Uh uh. He took off on that motorcycle of his, hours ago – He was slamming around the house early this morning, making all kinds of noise. Woke me up – so rude – and when I asked him what was wrong, he snapped at me! He looked like hell, and I think he was out all night and – oh!"

Realization flared in his eyes. "Oh. And now you're here. Oh..."

His ruthless gaze raked over her, and she watched as the merciless glee in his eyes morphed into deep concern. She didn't buy a second of it. "Oh, Morgan," he said, tsking sympathetically. "Damn, hon, I tried to warn you – "

"Save the bullshit, Adam, I don't care right now, okay?" she snapped, and his eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in indignation. Morgan sighed. "Look, can you please just – if you see him, can you just tell him I need to talk to him? And give him this."

She shoved the cap into his hands and turned away, trudging towards her car.

— ² –

"Well, work sucked again today," she told Chaos Sunday night as she curled on the couch, cuddling him close to her. The dog gazed at her for a moment and then laid his head on her arm. "Got a stern talking to for not being cheery enough. Excuse me if don't feel like jumping for joy 24/7 just for the privilege of working at the Happiest Place on Earth."

The phone rang, and her gaze darted to it where it sat on the table beside her. One glance at the caller ID and she sighed.

"Cass again," she said, and she felt bad for not answering, but she couldn't bring herself to pick it up. She couldn't bear to tell her friends, to have them console her and help her dissect everything, to take every part of it and rip it to shreds. She couldn't bear for them to come to the conclusion she'd already come to – she'd made a big mistake.

"I need to talk to Dean first," she murmured to Chaos, and he licked her arm, evidently agreeing.

That's gonna be difficult if he keeps hiding. She didn't even know where he was. As far as she could tell, he still hadn't come home from wherever he'd gone Saturday morning. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or worried. Annoyed and distraught were certainly there, but worried was gaining a foothold.

The phone rang again, startling her. Cass wouldn't be calling again so soon, she realized as she grabbed for the phone. The number was unfamiliar, and she felt her heart lurch. Maybe he was telling the truth! Maybe he just had to go home for something and there was an emergency, and he's calling as soon as he could, and –

"Hello?" she said, trying to force her voice to stop trembling.

"Hello? Morgan?"

"Rob?" Her heart sank even lower than it had been before the phone rang.

What do you mean, ‘Morgan?' she thought with a sigh. You know I'm the only one who lives here. And I thought this weekend couldn't get any worse.

"Hi, I hope it's not too late, and that you don't mind me calling. I just thought... well, I hadn't heard from you in a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

Just peachy. "Oh... well, you could have emailed," she said, cringing as she realized how rude it sounded.

There was a pause. "I did. Several times, and you haven't responded. I was getting a little worried, frankly."

"Oh." Morgan bit her lip. "I've been pretty busy." With Dean. But I'm not now. Because he's pulled The Amazing Dean Russo Vanishing Act. Again.

"I gathered that."

There was another awkward silence, and she shifted uneasily on the couch. Chaos growled as she dumped him unceremoniously from her lap. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Well, I'm okay, thanks for calling – is that the only reason you called?" She realized she hadn't asked him how he was doing, and she couldn't bring herself to care about her rudeness.

"Well, no, actually. I'm going to be out in that area tomorrow afternoon, and I was just wondering if you'd like to get together. For dinner, maybe. Just to catch up."

She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What the hell? Who are you and what have you done with Rob? "Um..."

"If you're not busy, I mean..."

If he'd called three days ago, she would have brushed him off, said she was busy, working, washing her hair, anything. She might have even told him she was seeing someone. But now...

She bit her lip. I'm avoiding my friends, the job I normally love now majorly sucks, and the only other man I've ever slept with besides you literally ran out on me. The second time. My life's great, thanks for asking! Shrugging listlessly, she said, "Well, I don't go to dinner – to restaurants."

There was a pause, and she was sure he was remembering the panic attacks she'd had during the months after the accident. After a moment, he said, "Oh. Oh, yes, of course, I'd forgotten. Well, coffee then? I know a great little place."

Morgan stared at the phone again. You don't drink coffee! "Well... okay, then. That sounds fine."

"Well, great. I'll, uh, I'll pick you up at seven, then?"

I'll pick you up at 5:45, she heard in her head, and she closed her eyes against the sting of tears. "Can we make it eight?"

"Sure. Okay, then. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye."

After he hung up, she stared at the phone. Besides, maybe Dean will see his car, a tiny part of her said, and she frowned. "No." This is not high school, I don't want to make him jealous, I just want to know what the hell is going on!

"Great. Date for coffee with the ex who doesn't drink it." Morgan sighed. "What the hell am I supposed to wear?"

— ² –

By Monday night, she was definitely worried. Dean's truck hadn't moved an inch. She'd called Adam, and though he'd been snippy with her, he'd told her that he hadn't heard from Dean. Dean's personal cell phone went straight to voice mail, and she hadn't felt comfortable calling his company phone, even though he'd given her the number. She tried to tell herself that he was fine and obviously avoiding her and she shouldn't waste anymore time worrying about him. It didn't help.

Work had been a little better today than the previous two days – she was still miserable, but she'd managed to keep a smile on her face whenever she was onstage. People were still avoiding her in the break room, since she made less of an effort to hide her black mood while she was in there.

Morgan was pacing in front of the window, watching Dean's driveway, when Rob's car pulled up. At least, she assumed it was Rob's car. It was sleek and black and very expensive looking.

She almost stumbled as a horrible thought struck her.

"Oh God," she murmured. "What if he's going to tell me he's getting married or something?"

The urge to run and hide under her bed was almost overwhelming. With everything that was going on, she wasn't sure she could handle anything else.

"Relax," she told herself sternly. "He's not coming to tell you anything like that. This isn't General Hospital for God's sake."

Morgan watched him get out of his car, straightening his shirt and brushing down his pants. He was tall, with the dark, burnished copper hair that had first drawn her attention to him. If she closed her eyes and thought about it, she could imagine his striking green eyes. She studied him and decided he was handsome enough – though he'd gained some weight, it had only made him fill out, given him the broad shoulders of the football player he'd never been.

Her mind was filled with visions of dark, unruly hair and melted chocolate eyes, and she pursed her lips, trying to push the images away. When it moved on to fantasies of long, lean limbs and a beautifully toned torso, she sighed regretfully and shook herself out of it. Just in time, as the doorbell chimed.

She pulled the door open and mustered up a smile. "Hello."

"Morgan," he said, his face breaking into a smile as he looked her up and down. "You look fantastic."

"Thanks," she said, grabbing her coat off the hook by the door. "You look good too."

"Shall we?" He turned and ushered her out the door, and she was extremely glad he didn't try to take her arm or her hand.

"Thanks," she said again as he opened the car door for her. "New car?" she asked as he settled behind the wheel. She glanced around at the polished wood trim and ran a finger over the plush leather interior.

"I've had it for several months," he said with a shrug. "It's comfortable."

"Finally got one, huh?" she said with a knowing nod, completely debunking his nonchalance. It was the kind of car he'd wanted since high school. He looked over at her, a sly smirk on his face.

"I'd forgotten you were there when I first looked at them."

"Mmm," she said, but she thought, I hadn't. "So, how's work?"

He slipped the car into drive as he shrugged again, in a way that was so familiar it made her ache, not with love or desire, but with nostalgia. Things had been so simple once.

"...So I told him that I needed a break, needed to cut back, and he said he understood. So I'm working sixty, which is not great, but it's better than eighty."

"Hmm? Oh. Oh, well that's good." She realized she'd been tuning him out the entire time as her thoughts drifted, and she flushed with embarrassment.

"You okay, Morgan? You seem a bit distant."

"No, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'm here."

"So, good... Well, you mentioned in an email that you're not working for Carl anymore, but I don't believe you told me what you're doing now?"

She laughed as she peered at the window. "This is your great little place? God, I haven't been here for... years."

The nostalgia returned, stronger than ever, and Rob laughed, the deep chuckle she'd once loved so much. "I thought you might like it."

"It" was the tiny, independent coffeehouse around the corner from campus. She and her friends had gathered there night after night when she'd still been in school, and Rob had joined them about half the time, reluctant to be in a crowd and away from his studies.

"I can't believe it's still here," she said with a smile. "That it hasn't been replaced by a Starbucks."

"Come on, let's go in," he said. He came around the car to open her door, and this time, he offered her his hand to help her out of the car. Not wanting to be rude, she took it, a bit hesitantly. She couldn't believe he'd remembered the little place; it was like stepping into the past.

Inside it was quiet and cozy – the college crowd didn't invade much before nine. They ordered, and she wasn't surprised to find herself paying for her own coffee.

"House blend," Rob said, and she glanced at him. "What?" he said as he caught her looking.

"Didn't think you drank coffee," she replied with a shrug, taking a sip of her own latté and humming in appreciation.

"Have to every now and then, just to keep awake. And since dinner was out of the question..."

He said it casually, but after having spent years with him, she couldn't fail to hear the passive-aggressive accusation his voice held. She refused to feel guilty about her fears, especially for Rob's sake.

"Come on," she said, "Let's find a table."

After they were settled at a corner table, cradling the warm mugs in their hands, he asked her again what she was doing with her life these days.

She thought of her job, and how much she normally loved it, thought of the smiling kids and the awe on their faces. True, it sucks right now, but that's really all Dean's fault.

"I'm working at Disneyland, actually," she told Rob with a smile.

He stared at her, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. "What?"

"I'm working in the park. At Space Mountain most of the time, but I also do some Guest Control shifts at Fantasmic!, or the parade."

He set his coffee back on the table. "What, you mean... like, a temporary job?"

Morgan shrugged, trying to hide her wry smile. I'm so not surprised you don't get it, she thought. "Well, I suppose it could be temporary, if I was planning on getting another job any time soon. But I'm happy with it, so I see no need to move on."

He shook his head in confusion. "But that's for kids, Morgan. You have a college education."

"I never graduated, Rob; you know that."

"So go back and get your degree, then, while you work there. At least you'd be doing something useful that way!"

"I will go back, but I see no need to right now," she said calmly, hiding her disbelief at the fact that she was defending herself and her life choices to Rob once more. She'd thought she was done with that years ago.

"But you could be doing so much more!"

"Yes, I probably could, and maybe what I was doing with Carl was more useful and socially rewarding, but I don't know, I think trying to make people happy is pretty damn rewarding. And, I'm happy."

"How can you be happy? There's no room for advancement there!"

She laughed bitterly. "That isn't what makes me happy, Rob. And anyway, how do you know there isn't? You don't, you just assume that because it's something you wouldn't do that it's not worthwhile. You've always done that."

Rob stared at her, a look of wounded anger on his face. "How have I always done that?"

"You – " Morgan sighed. "You know what? Never mind. I shouldn't have brought it up."

When he continued gaping at her, she sighed again. "Look, let's move on, okay? We can try for a pleasant evening without rehashing old arguments."

After a moment, he nodded grudgingly. "Okay... Well... um, how's Cassidy?"

She smiled. "She's doing really well, actually. She's married now – you remember Diego?"

"Mmm," he said noncommittally, and she wasn't surprised at his reaction. The two men had never gotten along.

"They're married, they have three dogs – they just bought a house, actually, and I think Diego's probably going to buy himself a new car soon."

"Really? Good for them, sounds like they're doing well."

Yes, those material acquisitions are sure adding up, she thought cynically. She was happy that her friends were doing well, because they were happy, not because their finances were sound. Rob, she knew, would not feel the same way. "And Zach and Mandy are – finally – engaged."

"That's... nice," he said, and she smiled, wondering if he remembered that Zach and Mandy had started seeing each other the same week she and Rob had.

"Yeah, they're happy, it's good to see. And Jeremy's doing well – he just made management, so he's always working – a lot like you, actually, in that respect."

Rob said nothing, simply taking a sip of his coffee, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. She knew the thought of any similarity between him and Jeremy probably made him uncomfortable as hell.

The silence stretched on, and she finished her latté. She pointed at her mug. "I'm gonna go get another one, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"You want something?"

He shook his head, stirring his coffee. "No, thanks, I'm fine."

When she got back to the table, he asked her about several of her other friends, and the conversation remained friendly enough, but she was bored out of her mind. The small talk kept her from thinking too much about Dean, though, and for that she was grateful. She noticed that Rob spoke very little about his friends and family, but a lot about his apartment and his car and his job – it was like his emails all over again.

After she finished her second latté, Morgan surreptitiously glanced at her watch.

"I should probably get home," she told him, and she thought he looked disappointed.

"Oh, wow, you're right – it's late," he said, looking at his own watch. "I should get going. Early day tomorrow."

"Do you ever have a late day?" she laughed.

"Not lately."

The ride home went quietly, and Morgan spent it staring out the car window. A motorcycle came roaring by her side of the car, and she jumped. She stared after it as the low level anxiety she'd been battling all night came soaring back. She sighed.

"You okay?" Rob asked quietly, glancing over at her.

"Yeah, I'm okay. There's just... a lot going on right now."

"Anything I can help with?"

She studied his profile as he drove, finally shaking her head. "I doubt it."

"You let me know if you ever need anything, okay?" Rob asked, glancing at her again.

She stared at him in shock, wondering once more if he'd been replaced by an alien.

Rob pulled up in front of her house and dropped the car into park. He made no further move, and he didn't say anything, and after a moment, Morgan looked over at him to find him watching her closely.

"Well, that was... nice. Thank you for asking me."

"You're welcome," he said, and his smile was perfect – it was charming, winning, and did completely nothing for her.

When she reached to gather her coat and purse, he placed a hand over hers, stroking it gently. Startled, she glanced at him.

"You know, it's not that late," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Maybe I could come in for a while... for coffee or something."

"We just had coffee!" she exclaimed.

"Well," he laughed as his hand slid further up her arm. "It doesn't have to be coffee..."

Morgan shoved his hand away from her. "I don't believe you!"

"What?"

"Look, if all you wanted to do was get into my pants, you could have told me that on the phone. I would have told you there was no chance in hell and saved us both from a couple hours of yawn-inducing conversation!"

"Morgan – "

"What, you just assumed that you'd call and I'd come running back and just fall into your bed?"

"It's not like that – I just thought we could get reacquainted."

"We just spent two hours getting reacquainted, and it was plenty of time to remind me why this didn't work the first time. You don't understand my mindset, my wishes and dreams, you don't understand me! You're not what I want, Rob – you're not who I want, and I've got news for you – the sex wasn't all that great the first time – why the hell would I come back for more?"

"Jesus, Morgan, you don't have to get vicious!"

"Stay away from me," she warned. "Don't call me, don't email me – just leave me the hell alone!"

She couldn't get the car door open because her hands were shaking so badly. Finally, she shoved it open, ignoring his startled yelp of indignation when the bottom of the door scraped against the curb. Slamming the car door shut, she made it up the walk and into the house before the tears began to fall.

Morgan stormed through the foyer and into the living room, dropping her keys and purse on the table before throwing her coat onto the couch. She kicked her shoes off and slumped onto the loveseat, burying her face in her hands.

The tears she cried were mostly in anger. Anger at Rob, and at Dean, the men who thought she was good enough to spend time with – to sleep with – but not good enough to cuddle, to keep, to love.

The anger boiled up inside her, and she was frustrated with her tears, frustrated that she couldn't seem to find any other outlet for her emotions than crying.

"I'm fucking sick of crying!" she shouted. "Bastards!"

She rested her head on the back of the loveseat, staring at the ceiling and occasionally swiping angrily at her cheeks until the tears began to taper off.

The phone rang, and she stared listlessly at it, letting it go to voice mail. It rang again, and she scowled at it.

"Go away," she grumbled.

When it rang a third time, she sighed in frustration and grabbed it. "What?"

"Morgan? Are you okay?"

Morgan sighed. "Hey, Cass."

"Don't ‘hey, Cass' me, I've been trying to get a hold of you since Saturday morning! You always return my calls! Where the hell have you been?"

"I've been busy, okay? I didn't realize I had to check in with you every morning!"

There was silence on the line for nearly thirty seconds. "Morgan, what happened? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Cassidy... it's been a rough weekend."

"Do you need me to come over there?" Cassidy's voice was full of concern, and Morgan felt awful for snapping at her.

"No! No, I'm fine... it's just..." she laughed bitterly. "I just had coffee with Rob."

"You went out for coffee? With that asshole?"

Morgan smiled. "Yeah, he called me yesterday. We spent two hours talking about nothing and then when he brought me home, he tried to invite himself into my bed."

There was another moment of silence. "What?" Cassidy asked, obviously astonished. "Rob? Rob Monroe?"

Morgan's laugh was watery. "Yeah. Pretty much told him to go to hell."

"Okay, so that couldn't have been pleasant, but I don't think that's the whole problem. What's going on, Morgan? Why haven't you returned my calls? Or Jeremy's? And why are you going out with Rob? What happened to Dean?"

"Oh, Cass..." Morgan sighed. "I screwed up."

"What happened?"

"He took me out Friday night, and we came back here, and..." She trailed off.

"And?"

"I woke up in his arms, Cass, and it was so nice, and then he woke up and freaked out and he's gone." Morgan slumped back against the loveseat, cradling the phone to her ear.

"He ran? You slept with him, and he took off? Again? What a bastard! And this is your fault how?"

"Well, obviously it was a mistake to sleep with him, since he took off!"

"Oh, God, honey. It's not your fault he's a jackass..."

"Everyone leaves," Morgan said, her breath hitching as the tears tried to come again. "I love them, and they leave."

"Oh, no... you don't love him, Mor – "

"I think I do, Cassidy. I really think I do. He's... sweet, and kind, and caring, and he – "

"And he ran. He doesn't deserve you! And hey, I take exception to what you just said – I love you, and Jeremy loves you, and we're still here! We're not going anywhere."

Morgan smiled shakily. "I know. And I love you guys too. I just don't understand why I'm not good enough for anyone else."

"He's not worth your grief, Morgan. If he can't see what he's missing, then just forget him!"

"But... Cass... there was something... when he woke up on Saturday, there was something wrong with him – the look in his eyes, it wasn't like he didn't care – it was like... he was scared."

"Probably – commitment scares a lot of guys, Morgan! He was scared, and he took off."

Morgan sighed. "I don't know... it would be so easy just to think that, but he just ran! It wasn't like he was just leaving because he was done with me. And he hasn't called, hasn't been home – "

"What do you mean he hasn't been home?"

"I mean, he hasn't been home! He took off on his motorcycle, and he hasn't called Adam. He obviously didn't go to work today and – " Morgan peered out the window. Sure enough, nothing had moved next door. "His truck hasn't moved from that spot in his driveway since we brought it home Friday night."

"Okay, that is odd." Cassidy sounded just as confused by it as Morgan felt.

Morgan nodded. "Yeah. I think I broke him."

Cassidy laughed. "Maybe... I don't know, Morgan. Maybe something happened, who knows? But just... Okay, maybe he'll call, I don't know. But it's not your fault if he doesn't, okay? You're doing so well – don't let him destroy you."

Her sigh was audible over the phone line. "If he did just run out, just... I don't know, just forget him."

"He was the only guy I've ever been with besides Rob, Cassidy – I slept with him, I don't do that with anybody! I can't just forget him..."

"I know, Mor." Cassidy sighed again. "I know."

"Thanks for calling, Cass, and I'm sorry I didn't return your calls. I'm really glad you called. I was... kind of a mess."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I felt so stupid..."

"God, Morgan – we've all made mistakes – remember Nicky?"

Morgan laughed. "Oh, God, I forgot about Nicky!"

"I didn't!"

"Yes, but it was a party – one night, that was a mistake! This was months, Cass..."

"Yeah, which is why it's so weird... and he hasn't been home..." Cassidy trailed off.

"You sound like you don't think he just did a runner," Morgan said with a frown.

"I don't know. But he has to come home sometime..."

"You'd think..." Morgan sighed. "Guess I'll eventually figure out what the hell is going on, and figure out why it's over. But God, it was nice..."

Cassidy chuckled sadly. "Sorry, hon."

"Yeah. Okay, enough shared misery for one night. I should probably go to bed. Thanks for calling, and I'll call you tomorrow."

"You sure you're gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine." Morgan told her. "Say hi to Diego for me."

"I will. You call me, okay?"

"I will. Good night, Cass."

"Night."

Morgan hung up and sighed, staring at the ceiling again.

"Time for bed." She was about to put the phone back on the cradle when she realized the light was blinking. She figured she should at least go through and delete the messages Cassidy had left. Grabbing the phone, she hauled herself up from the loveseat and trudged through the house. She tossed the phone on the chair in her room as she got ready for bed.

There were six messages from Cassidy, and three from Jeremy, and Morgan sighed. She'd have to call Jeremy, too.

"Hey, Morgan – "

She almost dropped the phone. "Dean!" she murmured, hitting the key to repeat the message.

"Sent today at 8:45 pm."

"Hey, Morgan, it's me. Um, it's – it's Dean. Look, I just wanted to say that I'm... I'm sorry for the way I reacted, and I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I just – I needed to say it, needed you to know... Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow night, and I'd like to talk to you... I'll... I... I'm sorry. Take care of yourself."

There was a five second pause before the message ended, as if he was trying to figure out something else to say. Morgan played the message twice more before she saved it.

"He sounds... exhausted," she muttered to herself. He sounded more than exhausted. He sounded distressed, and tense. He sounded miserable. "But he's alive, thank God."

The worry receded slightly now that she'd heard his voice, and the anger came roaring back. Morgan told herself that she didn't care, that she didn't want to hear his excuses, and she'd almost managed to convince herself by the time she fell asleep.

— ² –

Dean's truck wasn't in the street in front of his house when Morgan got home around ten on Tuesday night. Their garage door was open, and she could see that the truck was now parked in its customary place. The spot for Adam's car was empty beside it.

As always, she let Chaos out from his kennel in the backyard so that he could go for a quick run around the front yard. Even in her pensive mood, she couldn't help but smile at his antics as he dashed about two or three times in lightning fast circles, yipping excitedly all the while.

As she watched him, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of Dean and Adam's garage and began moving towards her, and she almost yelped in surprise.

"Morgan..."

"Jesus, Dean, you almost gave me a heart attack. Have you been standing there waiting for me?" She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step back as he came closer.

"Not too long. An hour, maybe."

"You stood in the dark for an hour?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Why didn't you just sit in the living room and stare out the window? she thought wryly to herself. That's what I always do.

"Didn't know what time you'd be home, and I wanted to talk to you. I didn't know if you'd want – "

"I'm glad you're alive," she interrupted. "I wasn't sure for several days, since you just took off and didn't, y'know, call or anything."

"Morgan – " He took a step closer to her, his hands shoved in his pockets, and she took another step back, raising a hand to stop him.

"Just because I'm glad you're not dead doesn't mean I want to listen to anything you have to say."

Dean took another step closer. "Morgan – look, I'm sorry."

The light from her garage fell on his face as he moved closer, and she gasped. He looked worn, almost haggard – there were dark circles around his eyes, and he was pale. "God, Dean, you look like hell."

He smiled wanly. "I had a rough few days. They sent me home from work today. Told me, and I quote, ‘You look like hell.' I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that I look like hell."

Morgan raised a hand. "You know what? I don't care. No, that's not true. I can't care. Goodbye, Dean. Come on, Chaos."

She turned, forcing herself not to look at Dean's face as she headed for the door that led into the house. She heard the click of Chaos' claws on the concrete of the driveway, heard Dean say, "Hey, boy," and then there was a canine growl and a human yelp of pain.

Whirling around, she saw Chaos hunkered down, snarling, as Dean shook his hand in the air.

"Chaos!" she gasped. "Oh my God, Dean, did he bite you?"

She grabbed his hand, examining it closely. There was no blood, no wound that she could see.

"It was just a nip," he reassured her. "It startled me, that's all. I'm not hurt."

Morgan let his hand go, afraid she'd never let go if she didn't do it now. She couldn't help her smile or the little bit of vindictive glee now that she knew he wasn't hurt – but she hated herself for it. "Good," she said. "He knows I'm mad at you. Good boy. Come on," she said, gesturing for the dog to follow her.

When she turned to see if Chaos was following her, she caught a glimpse of Dean's eyes in her peripheral vision. He was gazing at her, his eyes filled with hurt, and he looked like a lost little boy. She barely caught the slumping of his shoulders as he began to turn away, and she sighed. Everything in her told her she should just keep walking away, but she couldn't do it

"Dean..."

He stopped but didn't turn around. "I know you don't want to hear me out," he said, his voice low and filled with self-retribution. "I understand – I also understand that you don't care if I understand. But one day, Morgan, I hope that you'll give me a call, let me at least try to explain."

"You've got half an hour," she said abruptly, and he glanced over his shoulder at her in surprise. She sighed again, and walked past him, heading around the garage towards the front porch. The front porch light, on as always, dimly illuminated the area.

Even though she was giving him more of a chance than she knew he deserved, Morgan still couldn't bear to have him in the house again, not so soon. She led him to the front porch swing and gestured to it.

"Wait here," she said, and then she scooped up Chaos, unlocked the front door, and dumped her purse in the living room before depositing the dog back in his kennel and making her way back to the front porch.

When she returned to Dean, he was sitting listlessly on the swing, one hand wrapped around the support pole as he stared out into the darkness. He looked up at her arrival, but he soon looked away. She sat beside him, making sure there was plenty of space between them.

The silence grew. "Spill," she said when it got to be too much.

Dean sighed. "I'm sorry, Morgan."

"You already said that part."

"I was scared."

She shook her head in irritation. "Didn't we already go through this once? You were scared, you ran away, we got past it – this is not a fun cycle, Dean!"

"It's not the same!" For the first time, he showed some spirit, his eyes filled with fire as he looked at her, but the fire died and he looked away all too soon. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I have a son, Morgan."

She was glad she was sitting down. "What? Y-you have a what?"

"At least... I think I do."

"I don't understand."

"My last girlfriend – Amy – we'd been together about two years when she told me she was pregnant. This all happened... about three years ago. I was terrified, Morgan – we were together, but we weren't really serious, and I wasn't ready to be a father – or a husband. But that's how I was raised, what I was taught was right – you get a girl pregnant, you marry her, you provide for your family, whether you wanted one or not."

Morgan listened, half horrified, half entranced. She'd never heard Dean say so much at once, and certainly not about himself. There were parts of him locked up so tight she'd never had any clue they might exist.

"So we got engaged – we fought a lot, over stupid stuff because we couldn't bring ourselves to fight over the big stuff – and I was just getting used to the idea that we were having a baby."

Dean looked up at her, and his eyes were wide and glassy and awestruck. "Me. I'd helped to create life. There was this... tiny being, and he was gonna be half me! I was just learning to fall in love with the baby, and Amy left me."

"What?" Morgan blurted out, aghast.

He shook his head in half-remembered confusion. "One day, she was – we were – looking at this pregnancy book her mom had bought her – and all of a sudden, she just slammed it shut and threw it across the room. She... she said she'd had enough of... ‘this happy family crap' and she packed a bag and she took off. I don't know where she is, Morgan."

"The baby..."

"I don't know. I've looked everywhere for them. I don't know if she had the baby, if she gave it up for adoption, if she's married and raising him somewhere – I don't know if she's alive or dead – if my son's alive or dead – hell, I don't even know if it was my baby. But nobody knows where she is. Not even her family knows, or if they do, they won't tell me."

"God, Dean..." she breathed, and unconsciously, she moved her hand to cover his where it lay on the seat of the swing. "I'm so sorry, that's horrible."

He nodded, swallowing harshly.

"Why didn't..." She trailed off, shaking her head. It was obvious that Dean was still confused and distressed over the whole situation. It wasn't something he was likely to bring up in casual conversation, which was probably why he hadn't told her.

The more pressing matter was how his history with Amy had led to his flight from Morgan's bed.

"I don't understand... why... I mean, how... why would that make you run from me?"

He looked her in the eye for the first time that evening. "You are the first woman I've cared for, the first woman I've really made love to since her – I just... I woke up and I panicked, Morgan. I just thought, ‘Oh, God, I can't go through this again.'"

"But how could you think that I would – "

"I didn't! And I still don't. I just freaked. I panicked, and God, I'm so sorry that I hurt you."

"You didn't call for three days."

"I went looking for Amy – I drove home, and when I was in Oceanside, I ran into one of the girls she used to hang out with, and she told me she'd heard Amy might be in this little town in Southern Oregon, so I went there."

"You went to Oregon?" she asked, half-disbelievingly.

"I have to find her, Morgan. I have to find them. I have to know." Dean gazed into her eyes, beseeching her to believe him, to understand.

"Okay," she said soothingly. "Okay, I understand. But we were safe, Dean. We used protection – and I'm on the pill. The chances of anything happening are probably about the same as getting struck by lightning and winning the lottery in the same day."

"Amy and I thought we were safe, too. It happens anyway sometimes, Morgan, and I just panicked – and after what Adam told me about your last breakup, I – "

"Hold on," she interrupted. "What did Adam tell you about my last breakup?"

Dean suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry if he broke a confidence he shouldn't have broken – I was asking about you, and he told me what he said he knew."

"Just tell me, please." Unpleasant thoughts about Adam were forming in her mind – Dean's recent history was just about as far from what Adam had told her as it could possibly be.

"He said there'd been... a pregnancy scare, that your ex – Ray?"

"Rob." Her whole body immediately went cold. She felt numb – distant and unattached to anything.

"Rob – Adam said Rob thought you'd done it on purpose and he broke up with you."

"I don't even know how Adam found out about that," she murmured.

"Then it's true?"

Morgan looked up at him, tears of betrayal and remembered terror burning in her eyes. "You think I'm capable of that?"

"No, I don't," he said firmly. "But I don't know if Rob did."

"There was... a scare. I was nineteen and already on the pill – I've been on it since I was sixteen, for health reasons – but we had... we had just started sleeping together and I thought I might be pregnant. I worried about it for about two weeks before I told him – and my mother – and then I went and got tested and I found out I wasn't. Rob and I didn't sleep together for about six months after that."

"So it's not why you broke up?" he asked.

"Rob and I broke up because he's an unfeeling bastard who couldn't figure out how to deal with me after my family died. I've never told Adam about what happened when I was nineteen, and I have no idea how he knows or why he would tell you that."

Dean was frowning. "I don't either."

"So just how many girlfriends would you say you've had since high school?" she casually asked him. He jerked his head up to gape at her, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Well, you see, Adam told me that you're a player, always have been, and that he didn't want to see me get hurt."

"What?"

"So he took our fears – mine of abandonment and yours of being trapped with a family you don't want – and he played them – and us – against each other," she realized.

Dean's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I'll kill the bastard," he growled. "How the hell could he – what is he doing?"

"I don't know, but I have an idea and it's not pretty – "

"It doesn't make any sense, Morgan! Why would he..." Dean shook his head in confusion.

"He's got some issues, Dean," she said gently. "You've lived with him for a while now, you should know that."

"But... I'll kill him!" he snarled, jumping to his feet, and Morgan grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him back down.

"He's not home anyway, so we'll deal with him later. You and I have other things to talk about."

He glanced at her, and the rage in his eyes died, replaced with the affectionate, caring look she'd missed. It just about broke her heart because she wasn't sure she could trust it anymore. She recoiled slightly, looking away, trying to protect her heart, and Dean sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.

"God, I fucked things up, didn't I?" he said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She tensed, but she didn't flinch from his touch, closing her eyes as his fingertips caressed her.

"Yeah," she said with a shaky laugh. "But I think we both did. You get more of the blame, though."

"I'll take all of it if you'll forgive me."

She opened her eyes to study his face. "I don't know if I can, Dean. I have been dying little by little for three days, not knowing what I did, what happened, how you could seem to care so much and then just take off and not care enough to even call."

"I do," he said quickly. "God, I do, I care so much, Morgan. I think I lo – "

"Don't," she said, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Don't say it, I don't want it as an apology."

He nodded, but his gaze told her what she wouldn't let his lips say, and she closed her eyes again to keep from seeing it.

"I don't know if I can do this. I don't know how I can get over the idea that you might get spooked and run off again."

"I won't, I swear to you. The whole time I was gone, I was thinking about how I screwed things up and how much I missed you, but I didn't know how to fix things – and then I heard about Amy, and I just..." Dean shook his head, trailing off.

"If this is going to work at all, Dean, you can't go running off every time you hear a rumor that she's somewhere in another state!"

"I know! I know, but – "

"I'll help you find her," she said, and he gazed at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

"You will?"

Morgan shrugged. "If she has your son – he's your family... and he needs you. I can't keep you from that – I wouldn't want to! But..." She shook her head, trying to shake away her gathering tears. "If you find her, and you decide..." She cleared her throat. "I can't promise to give you up without a fight, if you decide that – "

"I won't," he said quickly. "I don't want to stay with her – I just want to find my son. I want you – I want to make this better... I just want you to trust me, I'm not running again, I swear. I don't know how to convince you."

Morgan took his hand. "Be there," she said. "Stay. Next time – if there is one – stay and hold me and don't go running off. Show me that you'll be there by being there."

"I will," he whispered. "I promise."

"You can also start by kicking his ass," she said as Adam's car turned into their driveway.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I will," he said in a quiet, deadly voice as he stood up. He strode across the yard, and Morgan jumped up and hurried after him.

"Dean!" she hissed. "I didn't mean it."

"I did."

Adam was smiling as he got out of his car. "Dean! Glad to finally see you home! We were getting worried about you."

Dean's fist came up and caught Adam square in the nose. The smaller man squawked and fell against the car, sliding to the ground. He clutched his nose and blood streamed around his fingers.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man?" he exclaimed, his voice muffled and filled with pain. Dean reached down and grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt, yanking him to his feet only to slam him against the car.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he growled, and Morgan was truly afraid for Adam's safety, if not his life.

"Dean, wait – " She grabbed his arm, but he shrugged her off.

"No. He likes to play with people, he's getting what he deserves. What the hell is wrong with you? You knew how I felt about Morgan! I told you! I trusted you and you played us like fucking chess pieces!"

"He wanted a confidante," Morgan said calmly. "He wanted someone to tell his secrets to, someone who'd tell him theirs. He figured this way he'd get two – I'd tell him, and you'd tell him, and he could feel superior to both of us. Only I didn't play – and you didn't either – there are things you just told me that I don't think you told him. We didn't tell him everything, and he wasn't satified with what we did tell him. He couldn't handle it, isn't that right, Adam?"

Adam glared at her with hate-filled eyes, both fists still covering his nose, but he didn't reply.

"Answer her!" Dean shouted, shaking him like a rag doll.

"All I wanted," he bit out, "Was a friend."

"Well, with friends like you – "

"I've got nobody!" he said. "You had Morgan, and she had you – and Jeremy and Cassidy and everyone else, and I've got no one! I just wanted someone to talk to!"

"No. You wanted someone who was hurting more than you, someone to lord things over so you'd feel better about yourself. You've got no one because you're a hateful, spineless little bastard who takes delight in the misery of others," she told him. "No wonder you're alone."

She spun and walked out of the garage, trembling with anger. "Come on, Dean, he's not worth it."

There was a mail sack thud as Dean dropped Adam to the ground, and then he caught up with Morgan, still seething.

"I can't believe him," he said, his voice filled with betrayal and pain. "I loved him like a brother in high school – God, what happened to him?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry you've been hurt by him – I've known something was fishy about him for a while, but I didn't even think about what he might be telling you – I was too busy worrying about what he was telling me."

Dean sighed, and then he stopped her with a hand on her arm, turning her to face him. "So, what now?" he said uncertainly.

"Well," Morgan said. "Way I see it, you're homeless for the night – "

"If I go back over there, I just may kill him."

"You have the choice of two bedrooms – the guest room..." She paused, studying his face. "Or mine."

He looked tempted for a minute as he gazed at her, and then he sighed again and shook his head. "I think it's probably better if I sleep in the guest room for now," he admitted. "But I will be there to make you breakfast in the morning."

Morgan grinned, giving him a quick kiss. She broke away before he could deepen it, and he looked simultaneously surprised and disappointed. "That sounds like a good start," she murmured, leading him into the house.

On to The Epilogue