Hi guys, welcome to "Legends Never Die", Morgan's third and final story, but it's not just Morgan's anymore... I'm switching things up a little in this installment and flipping between Morgan and Bryan's views. Thank you to all those who review this, I was expecting a bit more hate on the end of the second part lol Though all of you made me smile and the guest who just slammed their keyboard- that was easily one of my proudest moments as a writer :)
So we left Morgan after she'd been abducted in the gas station bathroom by Dagon- a little nod to both Season 2 when Sam was kidnapped from the tiny diner and the actual ending of Season 11 when he was taken by the British Men of Letters- also, I'm an asshole if you haven't figured that out yet :)
I hope you like this - please let me know!
Bryan leaned against his car after shoving the nozzle back in the pump, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door, perfecting his words before Morgan returned. He'd sounded bitter and stupid before, he knew that, and he wasn't angry at her, or Max, he was just angry. When he'd asked Dean what his role would be in the hunt, the oldest Winchester had smirked and told him he wouldn't be involved, that the young man wasn't ready. Somehow, Bryan had managed to bottle up his anger and agree with the seasoned hunter, but his frustrations had boiled.
He should've been excited, hell grateful that Dean had charged him with taking Morgan back to the motel and used the alone time to his advantage. The vampires, however, the Alpha specifically, wouldn't stop haunting his mind. It was a battle his family had been fighting for generations and here it had finished, without an Elkins in the ring.
He'd had no right to act the way he had with Morgan, Bryan knew that, but he'd been irritated and resentful of not being included, allowing the little power he'd been given to take over his rationality. With the addition of his impossibly stubborn girlfriend and her sneaky attempt to deceive him, he'd reacted before thinking. Bryan wished he could take back what he'd said, what he'd done, but all he could do now was hope she'd forgive him.
"Hey, kid," Dean approached and leaned next to him on the trunk of the Grand National, "Y'okay?"
"Besides bein' a hot-headed idiot," Bryan scoffed, "yeah, I'm okay."
"You two get in a fight?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Bryan nodded, "two now I guess."
"Hey," Sam walked over jerking his head towards the bathroom, "they go in the store?"
"Don't think so," Dean shook his head and Bryan mimicked him in confirmation.
"I'm gonna check on 'em," Sam turned and walked across the parking lot towards the bathroom.
"Hey, uh," Bryan began, his stomach twisting with the words he knew he had to say, "Dean, I gotta tell y'somethin'."
"What's up?" Dean raised his eyebrows.
"I may've, uh, lost my temper earlier," Bryan forced the admission despite his heart racing, "Morgan wanted t'look in on you guys 'n I wouldn't let her have her crystals, 'cause you said t'wait 'til one, so she magicked 'em into her hand 'n when I caught her, it was just, it all happened really fast, she wouldn't even listen t'me!"
"What happened?" Dean's tone was low.
"I kinda swatted her," he said quickly, hurrying his words as Dean's expression hardened, "a little, I just wanted t'get her attention."
"You what?" Dean growled, jumping off the car and pulling the young man with him by his jacket, "You WHAT?!"
"Dean, I was wrong!" Bryan insisted, his hands up defensively, "I didn't-"
"Damn right you were wrong!" Dean barked, shaking him roughly, "You have no right-"
"DEAN!" Sam's frantic call stole both their attention and Bryan's stomach lurched seeing the younger Winchester sprinting towards them with Claire in his arms.
"What the hell?" Dean breathed, releasing Bryan and hurtling towards his brother, "Where's Morgan?!"
"She's gone," Sam shook his head, his voice shaking.
"What'd y'mean she's gone?!" Dean yelled, sprinting to the bathroom with Bryan hot on his trail.
Dean pushed through the door, kicking open the two stalls before turning to the terrified young man in the doorway and releasing a loud, angry growl, shoving roughly passed Bryan on his way back to the cars.
Sam had settled Claire on the backseat of the Impala and was having a little success reviving her when Bryan skidded to a halt behind Dean at the open rear door.
"How's she doin'?" Dean asked quickly, "Does she know who did this?"
Sam answered him with an angry scowl while cradling the barely muttering blonde's head, Claire's eyelids fluttered a bit, but it was an agonizing few minutes before they opened.
"Hey, hey, Claire," Sam said softly when her eyes finally focused, "How y'doin'?"
"My head hurts," she muttered, "and, the, MORGAN!"
Claire tried to sit up quickly, but Sam pulled her back into a mostly lying position as she grabbed her head in agony.
"Did you see anything?" Dean asked with panic in his voice.
Claire nodded, "A woman, dark hair, late thirties maybe," she inhaled sharply, closing her eyes tightly as her fingers curled on her scalp, "I saw her for less than a second."
"That's enough," Dean said quietly, locking his worried eyes on Sam's, equally as concerned.
Bryan felt like he might throw up, he'd never seen the Winchester brothers look so scared.
When Morgan finally came out of the darkness, she found herself cuffed to a rough, wooden chair in a large, empty barn. The floor was covered in mud, hay and dust, there were no tracks to suggest anyone had been there for quite some time, and the ceiling and walls had gaping holes riddling the rotted wood.
"HELP!" Morgan yelled as loud as she could, yanking at the binds that wouldn't budge, "DEAN! SAM! HELP ME!"
"No one's coming," a mean voice made Morgan turn to Dagon sitting on an ancient pile of grain bags, the demon smiled coldly as she slid to the floor and slowly stepped toward the young witch, "You can scream 'til you're hoarse, but there isn't a soul for miles."
"My brothers'll come," Morgan growled, far more confidently than she felt, her stomach twisting with fear as Dagon stalked closer.
"That would be impressive," the demon smirked, "but I've heard if Sam and Dean Winchester are anything, it's impressive. So, who knows, maybe they will," Dagon shrugged and grinned devilishly, "All the better for me."
"You've had y'r'chance," Morgan scoffed, internally screaming at herself for taunting the Prince of Hell, but inherently unable to help it, "What, twice now? Guess third time's the charm, but you don't really look too lucky. Not a gambler are ya?"
"I see you have your brother's wit," Dagon said, "none."
"I see you have your brother's future," Morgan said, "dead."
She gasped as a sharp pain burst across her cheek, forcing her head all the way to one side, and the demon glowered down at her, chuckling darkly, "You little bitch. I'm gonna let the wolves eat your heart outta your chest and then, then I'm gonna kill your brothers and anyone else you've every loved. Slowly."
"Screw you," Morgan spit the blood in her mouth at the smug face inches away from hers.
It wasn't a smart move, she'd known that going into it and expected the backlash, though Morgan still grunted loudly as Dagon smacked her head one way and the other. The final blow to her unexpecting gut was a different torture all together and Morgan lost her breath for several moments, the pain reverberating through her torso.
"Don't forget who's in charge here, sweetheart," Dagon smirked.
Morgan looked at the ground near the doorway, refusing to hang her head, willing the cuffs off, but her magic was paralyzed. Warded cuffs, just like the ones her brothers had, she was sure, she'd asked Dean to test them out once. Her stomach sank with the thought of her brother, blinking away the tears stinging her eyes and swallowing hard on her tightening throat. They must be so worried.
"Awe," Dagon mocked, "Y'gonna cry?"
"Screw you," Morgan muttered.
"Didn't we already go through this?" the demon laughed meanly, "Or do you need another smack?"
"Why am I still alive?" the witch growled, "Just kill me."
"Oho, girly," her eyes flashed yellow, "you have no idea how much joy that would bring me."
"Then do it," Morgan's expression didn't betray the terror she felt.
"Do you know what an apocalypse is?" Dagon asked condescendingly.
"No," Morgan said flatly.
"It was Lucifer's one plan," the demon continued as if she hadn't heard, "his only goal, to complete the singular destiny given to him."
"Think that may've been the problem?" Morgan asked with sarcastic concern, "I mean, obsessed much?"
"Shut up," Dagon snapped.
"No, seriously," Morgan shook her head, "How can anyone have one, single goal and expect their life to be anything but a disappointment? If anything, his mistake should'a taught you t'put more lines in the water-" a small grunt escaped from the hard hit across her face, but Morgan also couldn't help a little grin.
"I said, shut up," Dagon growled and stalked from the barn.
"Where y'goin'?" Morgan called, "C'mon, I thought we were havin' fun!"
As the demon disappeared behind the large door, Morgan shook her head from the tears she still felt trying to force their way out. She couldn't be more screwed. At least the time Crowley had taken her it wasn't a mystery as to where she was, and the King of Hell had been there to get her brothers to his throne room as quickly as possible when the plan had failed, but this time Morgan couldn't even begin to guess where she was. What hope could there be of them finding her?
"We gotta go," Dean said.
"Where?" Sam asked.
"We just gotta go!" Dean shouted, "We'll start makin' calls on the road."
Sam simply nodded at his brother's order, leaving Claire alone on the backseat and hopping in the front as he dug his phone from his jacket.
"Can I follow you?" Bryan asked a bit timidly.
"Oh yeah," Dean growled with narrow eyes, "I ain't done with you by a long shot."
The young man's stomach twisted, but he nodded, accepting Dean had every right to threaten him and more after what he'd done to his sister, feeling nauseous again as her perfect smile flashed in his mind. Where was she? He prayed, as he followed the Impala from the gas station, that Morgan was still okay and her brothers would find a lead on the Prince of Hell they were sure was the culprit. The idea made Bryan's insides crawl and a weight in his gut reminded him how useless he was to help save her.
They drove for a while, Bryan didn't even bother putting the radio on as he followed the Impala alone, racing to keep up with Dean, but appreciating the small relief accelerating angrily gave him. Finally, the sedan pulled off, stopping in the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall off the highway and Bryan got out as both Winchesters did.
"Y'got somethin'?" Bryan's words were hurried.
"GPS on her phone's off," Sam said, "We called Max t'ask him t'scry her for us, but," his words trailed off with a defeated shrug.
"But what?" Bryan urged.
"He said she's blocked," Dean answered in a low voice, "he was only able to see her for a second and said everything around her's black, he can't figure out where she is."
Sam's phone rang and he pressed it to his ear while walking out of earshot.
"So, what'd we do?" Bryan asked.
"We'll find her," Dean growled.
"Is Claire okay?" Bryan nodded at the Impala.
"I'm fine," the blonde called angrily as she rolled down the back window, "I'm not allowed to get out, because-"
"Because you have a freaking concussion!" Dean challenged, "You need to take it easy!"
"I'm fine!" she insisted loudly while clutching her head.
"You look so fine," he smirked, "Claire, I'm in no mood t'screw around. You listen, or so help me girl y'r'head's not the only thing that'll be achin'."
Claire looked like she had many things to say, but sat back on the seat hard, glaring at Dean with her lips closed tightly. Slowly, the window returned to its upright position.
"Can," Bryan couldn't believe the question that stammered out of his mouth, "can Crowley help?"
"I've already left him two voicemails," Dean admitted, "Cas put out the Amber Alert on angel radio, but I don't expect much from those ass clowns. He's on his way at least."
"To where?" Bryan asked.
"Jeezus kid," Dean sighed with frustration, "I have about as many answers right now as you do. Cas knows where we are 'n we'll figure it out when he's close. We've called hunters, demons, angels-"
"That was Rowena," Sam said as he returned to the group.
"Witches," Dean added and turned to his brother, "Can she help?"
"Said the same thing," Sam shook his head, "Morgan's blocked, can't see a damn thing."
Dean hung his head with an incredulous scoff.
"But," Sam continued, "she might have a spell that can help us track her."
"Sam," Dean growled impatiently, "this is not the time for your dramatic reveals, headlines first, man. Where're we meetin' her?"
"She's callin' me back," he held up his phone and rolled his eyes, "She had another call come in."
"And you should be glad she did," a gravelly voice made them all turn to Crowley and a thin, redheaded woman, both were far too well dressed for an abandoned parking lot in the middle of nowhere, "Hello, boys."
Bryan's stomach turned at the sight of the Demon, though had never felt more relieved to see him, that thought alone created a new sense of nausea.
"Dean," the redhead crooned in a heavy Scottish accent at the oldest Winchester, "Sam," her eyes then fell on Bryan, "And who's this handsome young chap? I don't believe we've had the pleasure."
"That's Bryan," Dean growled, "What's this spell y'got?"
"Never been one for foreplay, has he?" the witch asked Crowley.
"You'd have to ask the feathered one," Crowley said dryly.
"Hey!" Dean barked, "My little sister's out there with the psycho first mate of Satan! Can we focus on the goddamn problem?! Please?"
He actually sounded like he was begging at the end of his rant and the demon smirked almost sadly.
"Mother," Crowley said with his eyes on the Winchesters, "How accurate is this tracking spell?"
"Within a quarter mile," she said proudly.
"Get to it then," Dean nodded curtly.
"Goodness," she scoffed, "not even a please?"
"Rowena, I swear t'God," Dean took a few steps, but Sam held him back by the arm.
"Please," Sam said, "Rowena, we really need you t'do this. Please."
"Well," Rowena sighed with a smile, "who could resist those puppy dog eyes? I'll need something of hers, something close, and a map."
Dean opened the back door, motioning for Claire to cooperate, while Sam leaned all the way through the driver's side of the Impala before returning with a road map as Dean held Morgan's backpack tightly in his grip, both doors shut with solid thuds.
"Hardly goes anywhere without it," Dean said quietly, handing the bag over to Rowena as Sam spread the map on the hood of Bryan's car.
Bryan stepped back, watching as the witch held the brown backpack in one hand and focused her attention on her index finger of the other, speaking in a commanding voice.
"Úbi sum," her arm extended unnaturally, Bryan couldn't help wincing a little as her finger jammed hard into the map laying on his Grand National, "Úbi sunt eam!"
Her hand raised and again the well-manicured finger slammed into the map, quickly moving to another point, and then another. Rowena pointed at three separate locations in the same order four times before finally shaking her head of the trance and pulling her hand back as if she'd been bitten by a snake.
"What was that?" Sam asked.
"Failure, my dear," Rowena said bitterly, "You can't block a tracking spell, but something is keeping me from locating her."
"What?" Dean growled.
"I wish I knew, darling," she forced a grin at him.
"Is she in that triangle?" Bryan asked timidly.
"That's Lake Michigan," Dean scowled.
"Wait," Sam had a far-away look as he whipped his phone from his pocket and started madly swiping the screen, nodding after a few moments, "Yeah, yeah, okay. Was that Ludington 'n Benton Harbor Michigan 'n Manitowoc Wisconsin?"
Rowena looked surprised as they all turned to her, "Oh, right," she glanced at the map again and nodded, "It certainly is, Samuel."
"Okay so what's that?" Dean turned back to Sam.
"The Bermuda Triangle of Lake Michigan," Sam said, glancing at his phone, "One'a those places that just has a lot of stories of unexplained things, shipwrecks, disappearances, there's a lotta local legends, most of 'em are prob'ly crap."
"Would that cause a problem?" Dean turned back to Rowena.
"Sounds like a witch's web t'me," she said.
"What's that?" Sam and Dean asked together.
"It's really very cute when you do that, boys," the witch giggled, "A witch's web is just that, it's a spell cast on a vast space, when an intruder enters the witch is alerted and given the opportunity to protect themselves, or attack if that's their choice," she shrugged as if either was equally acceptable, "It must have been a powerful witch to cast that far and to hold so long. Tell me, Samuel, when was the last reporting of something, fatally strange happening?"
"It's, uh, it's been a while," he stared at his phone while swiping, "Over a hundred years."
"Then the witch is almost surely dead, or well retired," Rowena said, "but witch's webs are not just for trapping intruders, they are very effective in keeping other witches' magic out."
"So," Dean began, "Morgan's somewhere in this triangle?"
"That's my best guess, dear," she nodded.
"I hope you boys know how to hot wire a boat," Crowley said with his eyes on the map.
PRETTY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! :)