We're Not Friends: Bowie's Story- H.S. Fanfic

A Funeral to Bring them Together

Bowie: 24
Morgan: 24, 32 weeks, 2 days pregnant
Harley: 3

December 12 2040

"Huh?"Bowie flinches awake, groggily searching around the pitch black room for the source of the noise that's ringing through his ears. He soon gathers his thoughts enough to realize that it's his phone vibrating on his nightstand.

"Sh*t,"Bowie murmurs, keeping his hand pressed on Harley's back as she snuggles in deeper to his chest, laying on top of him. He reaches over to grab his phone, finding a contact that is the last person he'd expect to call him at 1 am.

Morgan

He never bothered to change her profile picture in his phone, although every time she calls him, he makes a mental note to because it's too hard. He'd rather look at a big M that would signal that he's yet to put a photo for her name rather than the photo he's had there since they were sixteen.

It's of baby Morgan. Well, not baby Morgan, but definitely little Morgan. She was only four in the photo that was taken by Harry and put into a Styles family scrapbook. It was during one of their Christmas cookie decorating parties and somehow none of Morgan's green frosting made it onto her cookie, but it all made it onto the tip of her nose and the corners of her lips. She has the classic Morgan cheesy grin where her chin is tipped up and her eyes are scrunched closed, her hair pulled into long pigtails.

He doesn't so much mind the photo itself, no, he just hates how much she looks like Harley. Harley is literally Morgan reincarnated. They're identical. Almost scarily so.

"'lo?"Bowie gruffly whispers, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake up Harley.

"Bowie, I, Bowie please, please bring Harley, I, Bowie I dunno what to do, Bowie my grandma—"

"Hey, woah, Morgan breathe,"Bowie quickly replies, cutting Morgan off as he listens to her desperate sobs and her chest heaving through the phone. "I can't understand you, can you slow down a bit? What's going on?"

"My grandma, Bowie my grandma,"Morgan sobs, a hand over her chest as she slides her back down the hospital wall, clutching her hand over her chest as if it's going to completely beat out of her body.

His heart sinks to the floor as he makes out Morgan's words. He knew Grandma Alice was not in the best of health. Her health had been declining since late last year, but he didn't know it was this serious. And he hasn't seen her since Harley's birthday party in September...

"Bowie please,"Morgan blubbers, flinging her head back against the wall as she brings her knees up to her big bump that's rumbling with tears.

"Morgan, what's wrong with Grandma? What happened?"Bowie asks, rubbing his warm palm up and down Harley's back as she begins to stir a bit at her dad's voice.

"Sh-she had a stroke,"Morgan wails, dropping her palm from her chest to her bump to hold onto it protectively. "And she's in a coma—Bowie she's—she's not gonna—"

"Okay, hey, okay, Morgan, I'm so sorry,"Bowie whispers, cutting Morgan off before she can say the words that he never wants to hear. He could never stomach them. Grandma Alice is just as much his grandma as she is Morgan's. In fact, they always teased Alice that she favored Bowie more than Morgan, but of course that wasn't true. Morgan was the light of her life.

"Can you bring Harley,"Morgan begs through tears, shivering in her tank top as she watches the feet of a few nurses walk by. "Please, I need her to say goodbye...I know it's your night but—"

"Hey, of course I'll bring her,"Bowie promises, smushing the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so that he can use his hands to throw off the covers. This? This is so much bigger than their strained relationship. Him and Morgan may be petty and stupid and unable to talk without screaming at each other, but they both know that this is bigger than whatever sh*t they hold against one another. "It doesn't matter that it's my night. We'll be right over."