Connor wasn't good enough. It was so stupid, he was so stupid. Where did he ever get the idea to...and now...of course he wasn't good enough. Not for Murphy. He'd never be good enough for Murphy. Really, he couldn't blame Murphy for throwing him out.
He deserved it. That didn't make it hurt any less though. If Murphy didn't love Connor what was the point? There was no point in having a job, getting an apartment, eating. There was no point in anything.
He should have kept his big mouth shut. Then he could have been home with Murphy right now. Smoking and talking, maybe having supper. Connor's thoughts drifted a moment, imagining hot biscuits and cold milk, before he shut them out. There was no point in food. It doesn't come easy without money.
Connor couldn't beg on the street. Murphy might see him and be even more disgusted. Then Murphy would know that Connor didn't really matter, and all the years together didn't really matter. Murphy might forget about him.
These thoughts kept Connor from going back, from coming out, from caring. Some nights bad guys would come around and it just hurt less not to care. They're stronger than Connor and they outnumber him most of the time. Even when Connor hides someone always finds him. He never knew how much scum flooded into the alleys at night, he never realised how everyone thought homeless people were disposable.
Murphy can never find out. Connor won't allow it.
Connor hides in the trash at night. Mostly he's lucky and they don't find him. It doesn't really matter but... he'd rather nobody find him.
Connor knows the end is probably soon. It sounds cheesy and lame but when Connor starts to get sick, everything hurts a whole lot more. The illness settles in his bones and pretty soon he doesn't even bother to hide. Murphy's on his thoughts. Every hour, every minute.
Every second.
Connor cuddles up to his trashbin, trying in vain to get a little warmer. He tries to tell himself it doesn't matter that he won't see Murph one last time. Because Murphy's face is so ingrained in his memory that he'll never forget it. Every fleck of color in Murphy's eyes, every curve of his face, every smile.
Connor's eyes are unfocused and he's so lost in memories of twin toddlers causing trouble that he doesn't notice when boots stop in front of him. He doesn't notice a figure hovering worriedly over him either.He doesn't see Murphy's face.