What Could Have Been: Morgan Webber
Yes, your eyes do not decieve you. After being totured by Sam with "stecky" for about twenty minutes I finally got her to compromise. I write a chapter, she stops with the stecky. The idea to continue and how I continue is all hers. I'm just writing it.
The one shot part of this is now going to be the prologue. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this. But for now I am. I really need to know if you want me to continue. So please, please review when you're done. There are more chapters after this that I may end up posting. Or I may end up deleting this chapter from the posted story and keep it at a one shot. But reviews would help me decide. I'm just testing things out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Italy, The Boxcar
Morgan Webber cleaned up the last of the glasses. He had given the bartender the night off, along with the rest of the staff. He usually did that when he didn't want to make small talk. When he wanted to be alone.
Some nights he wanted all of his friends and co-workers there with him. Their noise and laughter kept her away. But other times he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and memories.
Not to mention his guilt. Sometimes Morgan thought that his choice was a good one. That he had finally done what was right for him. Or as right as he would be able to get it without her by his side. But other times he knew what he had left behind him in his hometown. And he knew that the people he left behind couldn't be doing too well.
But then again, they could have already forgotten him. No one could be missing him at all. Sure, the might have mourned for a week or two. But had anyone really missed him? Past his boss needing him for the job and his former family needing him to keep his past self's memory alive. Could anyone have really cared enough to still miss him after all that time?
Morgan doubted it seriously. The woman he loved was already moving on at the time when he left, she didn't bat a eye in his direction. His friends whom he loved were basically treating him like a hired employee who was there to pick up their slack. His family didn't know a thing about him. No one besides his Grandmother, sister and nephew could have been missing him for an extended period of time.
He convinced himself of this every night. To keep the pain at bay.
Morgan Webber blew into Rome Italy a year ago today. He had the money to do whatever he wanted. His life before had left him a millionare, most of which he hadn't touched. His paycheck had always gone into a account in his hometown bank and then Morgan himself would deposit half into a bank that everyone knew he had an account in, and the other half went to a place that no one knew but him. His money had been waiting for him since the day he got his first major paycheck. And now he used it.
It had taken some time to figure out what in hell he was doing. His name would have slowed him down. So he changed it. As far as Morgan Webber had been concerned he'd grown up with the name. The bar had been an idea that hadn't taken too long either. A motorcylce shop would have raised un-needed eyebrows. So a bar and pool house combination had been his second choice. Morgan lived in the top of it, he had a few rooms to himself, the rest he rented out to various travellers who had come to Italy with nothing but a backpack. It was cheap to stay there, it wasn't as though Morgan needed the money.
The whole thing hadn't been planned. He had been shot in the rain and he knew that if he stayed where he was he would slowly die. Not physically, even though the gunshot was bad. But emotionally. Being without her was killing him. Morgan couldn't take his job anymore. It wasn't what he wanted.
When he woke up and saw the doctor he knew what had to be done. Morgan had paid the doctor to fake his death. A drug had been given to him to make it seem as though he was dying. The heart monitor made the continous monotone sound and if his eyes had been open, he would have seen a straight line over the screen. It had taken all of his willpower not to call it off when he heard Sonny and Carly screaming for a doctor. They asked him to hang on. But he couldn't, not to that life.
And that had been the first day of Morgan Webber's life. The doctor swore never to reveal their plan and no one knew of his lie. A lie that was begaining to kill him just as much as being without her was. But at least he didn't have to see her with that other man. At least he knew that they would all be okay. They didn't need him anymore, he was just making things harder.
He turned the lights off and survied the dark room. This was his life now. There was no danger, no bullets. No one to love, or fight for. He was alone. And as much as he tried to convince himself of otherwise, he missed them all. But what was done was done, he couldn't go back. Not when they were all better off without him.
Morgan Webber lived above his bar, The Boxcar. He had no real friends. He had no family. He had no girlfriend. If he were to die tomorrow, he wouldn't care, nor would anyone else. Morgan Webber was miserable. And Morgan Webber wasn't going to do anything about it.
Jason Morgan was dead, and nothing was going to change that. Morgan from his last name, and Webber from the woman he loved last name. He was the same person, minus all of the lighter spots of life.
Morgan Webber would never be Jason Morgan again.
Please tell me what you think, should I continue? REVIEW!
Yes, your eyes do not decieve you. After being totured by Sam with "stecky" for about twenty minutes I finally got her to compromise. I write a chapter, she stops with the stecky. The idea to continue and how I continue is all hers. I'm just writing it.
The one shot part of this is now going to be the prologue. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this. But for now I am. I really need to know if you want me to continue. So please, please review when you're done. There are more chapters after this that I may end up posting. Or I may end up deleting this chapter from the posted story and keep it at a one shot. But reviews would help me decide. I'm just testing things out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Italy, The Boxcar
Morgan Webber cleaned up the last of the glasses. He had given the bartender the night off, along with the rest of the staff. He usually did that when he didn't want to make small talk. When he wanted to be alone.
Some nights he wanted all of his friends and co-workers there with him. Their noise and laughter kept her away. But other times he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and memories.
Not to mention his guilt. Sometimes Morgan thought that his choice was a good one. That he had finally done what was right for him. Or as right as he would be able to get it without her by his side. But other times he knew what he had left behind him in his hometown. And he knew that the people he left behind couldn't be doing too well.
But then again, they could have already forgotten him. No one could be missing him at all. Sure, the might have mourned for a week or two. But had anyone really missed him? Past his boss needing him for the job and his former family needing him to keep his past self's memory alive. Could anyone have really cared enough to still miss him after all that time?
Morgan doubted it seriously. The woman he loved was already moving on at the time when he left, she didn't bat a eye in his direction. His friends whom he loved were basically treating him like a hired employee who was there to pick up their slack. His family didn't know a thing about him. No one besides his Grandmother, sister and nephew could have been missing him for an extended period of time.
He convinced himself of this every night. To keep the pain at bay.
Morgan Webber blew into Rome Italy a year ago today. He had the money to do whatever he wanted. His life before had left him a millionare, most of which he hadn't touched. His paycheck had always gone into a account in his hometown bank and then Morgan himself would deposit half into a bank that everyone knew he had an account in, and the other half went to a place that no one knew but him. His money had been waiting for him since the day he got his first major paycheck. And now he used it.
It had taken some time to figure out what in hell he was doing. His name would have slowed him down. So he changed it. As far as Morgan Webber had been concerned he'd grown up with the name. The bar had been an idea that hadn't taken too long either. A motorcylce shop would have raised un-needed eyebrows. So a bar and pool house combination had been his second choice. Morgan lived in the top of it, he had a few rooms to himself, the rest he rented out to various travellers who had come to Italy with nothing but a backpack. It was cheap to stay there, it wasn't as though Morgan needed the money.
The whole thing hadn't been planned. He had been shot in the rain and he knew that if he stayed where he was he would slowly die. Not physically, even though the gunshot was bad. But emotionally. Being without her was killing him. Morgan couldn't take his job anymore. It wasn't what he wanted.
When he woke up and saw the doctor he knew what had to be done. Morgan had paid the doctor to fake his death. A drug had been given to him to make it seem as though he was dying. The heart monitor made the continous monotone sound and if his eyes had been open, he would have seen a straight line over the screen. It had taken all of his willpower not to call it off when he heard Sonny and Carly screaming for a doctor. They asked him to hang on. But he couldn't, not to that life.
And that had been the first day of Morgan Webber's life. The doctor swore never to reveal their plan and no one knew of his lie. A lie that was begaining to kill him just as much as being without her was. But at least he didn't have to see her with that other man. At least he knew that they would all be okay. They didn't need him anymore, he was just making things harder.
He turned the lights off and survied the dark room. This was his life now. There was no danger, no bullets. No one to love, or fight for. He was alone. And as much as he tried to convince himself of otherwise, he missed them all. But what was done was done, he couldn't go back. Not when they were all better off without him.
Morgan Webber lived above his bar, The Boxcar. He had no real friends. He had no family. He had no girlfriend. If he were to die tomorrow, he wouldn't care, nor would anyone else. Morgan Webber was miserable. And Morgan Webber wasn't going to do anything about it.
Jason Morgan was dead, and nothing was going to change that. Morgan from his last name, and Webber from the woman he loved last name. He was the same person, minus all of the lighter spots of life.
Morgan Webber would never be Jason Morgan again.
Please tell me what you think, should I continue? REVIEW!