Darryl Kile: 
Matt Morris: 
Bud Smith: 
by me
Rating: R
Pairing: Matt Morris/Bud Smith
Disclaimer: Fake.
Summary: Just musings.
Notes: My MattMuse got all angsty. For good reason, Darryl Kile really took Morris under his wing when Matt was returning from Tommy John surgery. Other people I feel really sorry for right now: Rick Ankiel and the minor leaguer called up to replace him on the roster.
The butterflies in my stomach died. They started up inexplicably when he wasn�t there when I arrived. Because he always was. As the minutes ticked on, and he still didn�t show up, they multiplied. Not a lot, but a few. Just that bad feeling, the sense that something is wrong even though you know logically that nothing could be. I don�t know why I felt that way. I saw him last night, on the elevator, making fun of me and Bud like he always does. Nothing to worry about.
But then Tony walked into the locker room with that look on his face. And all the butterflies died. Instead, I just felt fear, cold and hard, almost terror. It was something terrible, it had to be. �You guys know we called the hotel. The door was locked, so they broke it down.� He paused and swallowed. I stopped breathing. Nonono, don�t say it, please don�t say it. �And they found Darryl�dead.� Tony choked out the last word, his head bowed.
The shock and horror and pain in the room were palpable. My breath expelled in what turned out to be a sob. Oh, Christ. I had to get out of the room. �No sign of any foul play. It appears to be natural causes,� I heard as I fled, my vision blurred by tears.
I was slumped against a wall somewhere quiet, I�m not sure exactly where I was. I�m in shock, I think. I know I�m shaking, I know I feel like I�m going to throw up. I closed my eyes. This has to be a dream right? This can�t be happening in real life. There�s no way that a 33 year old baseball player, the hardest worker on this team, someone who had three little kids, someone who looked after everyone on the pitching staff like it was his duty to know how we were feeling, was dead. There�s no way that the man who worked with me every day, even when he was pitching, when I was coming back from surgery could have died in his fuckin� sleep. Darryl can�t be dead. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to keep the heavy tears from coming.
Someone was coming, I could hear the footsteps. �Matt?�
Bud. Having a horrible year. I think the only person still confident in him besides me was Darryl. Jesus. He put his arms around me. �Oh, God, Matt, what am I supposed to do?�
I couldn�t hold it back anymore, not with Bud there. �I don�t know,� I whispered, as I dropped my head to his shoulder, feeling the tears come faster.
We stood there, clinging to each other, for a long time. �We should�go back.�
Our lips brushed in a light kiss. �Ok,� I murmured.
We made our way back into the locker room. No one was saying much, just milling around trying not to look at Darryl�s locker. Lots of red eyes.
�I want this day to be over,� Bud sighed beside me.
�This day will never be over.�
Never.