Don fell asleep, embracing Mallory, his nose dug in Mallory's messy hair. His mouth was slightly agape, and his left leg dangling on the hospital floor. 

Mortimer shook his arm, trying to wake him up. "Psst. Wake up." 

The blonde man yawned  and made a shooing motion with his left arm, eyelids still closed. "No, Abaddon....I don't want to go to work."

Mortimer swung and smacked him with enough force with a small book, making Don turn his head angrily. He squinted to see who was in the shadow and figured it out.

"Mortimer? What are you doing here?"

The tall man asked Don with one eyebrow raised. "Me? What are you doing there?" 

Don just realized he got caught hugging Mallory. He grinned mischievously and shrugged. He had no brain power left to produce a better excuse. Thus he is fully aware he is facing a smartass who can pick up hints well. "I was cold." 
 
Mortimer briefly chuckled, then changed the curves of his mouth into a straight line. He checked Mallory, who was sound asleep. "I want to talk with you. Outside." 

Don rubbed his eyes and stood up with his metal cane, "Sure." 

They walked out the room as Don gently closed the door. He faced Mortimer and adjusted his wrinkled suit. "What is it, boss?"

"About Mal. You two seem like you are held by Cupid's chokehold." 

"Well, you can say that.”

Mortimer paused to ponder and think. "Can you tell me how you two first met?" 

"I met him at the stage and made a good first impression," Don smirked, remembering fondly the insults thrown back-and-forth. 

"Where?" 

"Some bar called Club Bingo." 

"Ah... That bar is somewhat hard to get in. Only rich partyers who are club members are there. How did you get inside?" 

"I have connections." 

"Connections?-"

Don changed the topic before Mortimer could ask more probing questions. "What just happened earlier? I have never seen you so angry, it's wild."

"I refuse to tell you. You might use it against me," Mortimer rebuked.

Don raised his shoulder, "That's fair. So, Was Mallory always... You know, emo? Or punk, whatever he's trying to pull." 

"Punk, probably. I never really cared about that. We had a group of outsiders in our town when we were teenagers. I used to be in the band years ago." 

"Oh, you were?" 

"Yes, I wrote the lyrics and I was the main vocalist. Mal was in the guitar."

"Why did you leave?" 

"Artistic differences. I did felt bad for leaving Mallory all the band's responsibilities. I thought they would break up but my brother managed." 

Don felt proud of Mallory after hearing the information. 

Mortimer said one more thing after a short silence. "Have you ever wondered why Mallory looks like that? All the lipstick, eyeliner and black nails?" 

Don raised his shoulders and guessed. "Edgy subcultures?" 

"No. Well… mainly, he wanted to rebel against our father. Father wanted him to be something like a businessman. Mallory rebelled by changing his appearance and his name." 

Don nodded approvingly, "Good for him." 

"Hmm, you seem genuinely invested." 

"I have a thing for rebels, I suppose,” Don smiled at himself, then tilted his head. "I'm a bit of a rebel myself too.”

"Oh really, Vasco?" Mortimer asked, intrigued.

"Of course. I have a guardian who educated me to be a political figure I was about to be an heir of....but I chose to be free and be a singer instead. Hard decision, but I managed." 

Mortimer nod as he listened, "I can now see why you are attracted to him." 

Don raised his fingers to insert a contradiction. "Well, does he have to be such a diva? He likes to be really mean sometimes."

"You were a victim?" Mortimer said with a bit of a chuckle.

"In a way."

The tall man breathed in and out, trying to compose himself. "I feel horrible about Mallory's wellbeing. I might have dragged him down. He's a pain in the ass when we lived together after he was kicked out of his apartment" 

"A pain?" Don repeated intenly.

"Absolute pain in the ass. He was a drug addict and we disagree on lot of things."

"Is that so? But I can see he's doing well now."

"Bad habits die hard, Vasco." Mortimer said while promptly checking his expensive silver watch. Don glanced at the item and silently pondered over why he can't read the tall man's mind at all.  Mortimer stared back suspiciously as he noticed Don looking at his watch.

Don's phone vibrated in his coat's pocket. He dodged Mortimer's brooding eyes and spoke casually, "Better check this out. Must be important."

He looked at his phone and exhaled sharply. "I need to work again. Say Goodbye to Mallory for me!" He said before rushing out.

"What? You better paid the bill, Don!" Mortimer loudly said. "You caused this!"

"Can't hear you!"

"Motherfu-"

Don entered the empty elevator. He complained to himself to keep his mind active. 

"I would have teleport if I could right now. To spook that bitch who summoned me this midnight, but I used all my damn powers trying to catch Mallory. Real smart, Don. Now I have to wibble-wobble with my aching legs and arms."

Four floors to go. Don became slightly delirious in a brief moment because of his increasing drowsiness.

The elevator opened. A nurse passed by and approached him. 

"Sir! You should be in your room! How could you still walk—"

Don snapped his fingers and hypnotized the nurse. He yawned and smacked his lips before he commanded, "I never existed. Go away."

The nurse left in a trance as Don snapped his fingers at the security cameras, breaking every one of them. 

He stepped out the hospital and stretched his slightly aching arm, making his bones emit a cracking sound.

"I hate night shifts."