***Supernatural nor any of it's characters belong to me*** MORGAN PUTS UP A POWERFUL PROTECTION LINE OF INVISIBLE FIRE IN HER BEDROOM DUE TO THE NEW ARRIVAL, BUT IT DOESN'T GO AS PLANNED...
The diner they entered was reminiscent of the others Morgan had been in recently, cracking vinyl seats, worn stools and the inviting smell of cheap, delicious food. Castiel waved at them from a table in the corner, clearly happy to see their arrival, Claire glanced up, but quickly returned her gaze to her cell phone. Dean pulled out a chair for Morgan before sitting next to Castiel and Sam took the chair between her and Claire. The waitress was at their table before Sam had even sat down.
"S'this it?" she asked with a hint of impatience.
"Yes, this is it," Castiel nodded.
Everyone placed their orders and Castiel insisted he was fine with just coffee, that he wasn't drinking anyway. It seemed they couldn't have gone quick enough to satisfy the waitress, who while staring at her notepad, started walking backwards to the kitchen barely after they'd finished.
"So," Dean began and set his eyes on Claire, "We're headin' out first thing in the mornin'. Do you need to get anything out of Jody's?" Claire shook her head, a much milder version of the young woman Morgan had met earlier.
"You are taking her with you then?" Castiel asked in blunt confirmation, Morgan saw Claire's head dip again and felt a stab of sadness.
"Everyone's in agreement," Dean nodded, patting Morgan's shoulder and looking again at Claire, "S'long as you're ready to play by our rules," she nodded meekly at him, her eyes still downcast, "Good, you've got one shot."
They ate in awkward silence when their food finally arrived, Morgan and Claire continued to sneak unsure glances at each other that none of the men seemed to notice. Castiel had to meet Crowley and Rowena about something he did not go into detail in, but gave Dean a knowing glance as he departed in his own giant beige sedan, leaving Claire with the Winchesters next to the black Impala in the diner parking lot.
The drive to the motel was even more awkward than dinner had been, now that Morgan and Claire had to sit next to each other in the back. As expected, Morgan was extremely displeased to share her space, but kept her expression as neutral as possible. Thankfully, the motel wasn't far and both girls jumped out of the Impala nearly as soon as Dean threw the shifter in park. Sam unlocked the motel door and Morgan followed him immediately over the threshold, beelined for the book, plopping onto the bed and cracking it open to the M&M's wrapper.
"Hey," she recognized Dean's growl and turned to see him pointing at her, "get ready for bed before you get into that."
Morgan closed the book, rolled off the bed and grabbed the sweatpants from her duffel bag, slipping into the bathroom to change. It didn't take long, she folded her clothes back into her bag and set her boots by the end of the bed before crawling on top of the blankets again. Claire left for the bathroom and Sam and Dean removed their button downs and dirty jeans as Morgan immersed herself back in the book. She saw Dean take a pillow off her bed and looked up at him, wearing a clean white t-shirt and sweatpants, as he gathered extra bedding from around the room.
"Where're you sleepin'?" Morgan inclined her head at him.
"Right here by the door," he gestured to the floor next to her bed.
"You don't-," she started the sentence timidly, but gesturing her own tiny frame against the vast mattress, "This bed is huge, I'm not even gonna use this much of it, let me sleep on the floor, you've been sleepin' on the floor all week."
He inclined his head at her and then assessed the massive space she was laying in the middle of, occupying less than a quarter of the available pillow top, "Yeah, okay, scoot over," he smiled, "Sam can be the only one on the floor for once. Unless sharin' a bed with your big brother is weird," he looked sideways at her, but grinned again when she shook her head and scooted all the way to one side of the giant bed.
Morgan had conveniently just finished a chapter when Dean announced it was lights out. Sam was set up on the floor where Dean had planned to be, Claire was pretending to already be asleep on the other bed with her back to them and Morgan felt Dean's weight sink into the other side of the mattress, pulling her towards him a little in the dip he created. She tried to roll back to not disturb him, but he squeezed an arm around her before letting her return to the other side.
"Good night, Brat," he whispered.
"Good night, Jerk," she responded in the same hushed tone and fell asleep with a smile.
0000000000000000000000000000000000
Birds chirping and sunlight streaming through the breaks in the motel curtains woke Morgan. Rolling over she saw the other side of the bed was empty, but the blankets had been thrown back up over her after Dean's exit. Sam's back was turned to her as he leaned over his duffel bag on the dresser, the door opened, letting light pour in as Dean entered the room.
"Mornin'," he nodded, "car's nearly packed up. Wanna find some grub on the road?"
"Yeah," Morgan nodded, throwing the blankets off and getting out of bed.
The bathroom door cracked open and Claire walked out, fully dressed, but her puffy eyes betrayed her exhaustion and Morgan wondered if she'd slept at all last night. Grabbing her own clothes and exiting to the bathroom, she attempted a small grin at Claire and was surprised when the blonde returned it with what looked like a very small, genuine smile. Once everyone was dressed and ready, they piled into the Impala and Dean accelerated away from Sioux Falls.
Claire played on her cell phone while Morgan continued to devour the fourth installment of Harry Potter, finally reaching the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort. She closed the book for a moment, feeling an irrational fear for Harry, she was nervous to continue and decided to stare out the window instead.
"You can't be done with that already," Sam turned a little, having heard the soft thud of over eight-hundred pages closing.
"No," she shook her head, looking at the book in her lap, "just takin' a break."
"Where'ya at?"
"Graveyard."
"Oh," Sam nodded knowingly, "Yeah, I had to take a breather then too."
Morgan smiled hearing Sam admit he'd had trouble getting through the same chapter, but a loud, unexpected growl from her stomach changed her smile to surprise.
"Me too," Dean nodded, "I saw some signs for food comin' up on the next exit."
Dean was clearly in a hurry to get back to the bunker and swung through a drive-thru, with several warnings about eating neatly in his car. After handing back a bag and the third reminder, Claire and Morgan shared an eye roll, quickly realizing this, they looked away briefly before giving each other identical sideways glances and small smiles of solidarity in that moment.
Feeling better having eaten, and losing interest in the flat Midwestern scenery, Morgan returned to the graveyard battle in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire with slight trepidation, but reminded herself Sam had shown her seven books in the series, so logically, Harry had to survive the fight. She felt Claire peer over a few times and finally looked over to meet the girl's eyes.
"Are those good?" Claire asked, out of the corner of her eye, Morgan saw Sam and Dean lean their heads slightly back, listening to the backseat.
"I like 'em," Morgan shrugged.
"I've never read 'em," Claire offered, "but the movies were good."
"I've only seen the first movie," Morgan responded, closing the book on her finger, Dean turned the radio down a very subtle notch, "it was good, but the book's better."
"I'm sure," Claire agreed, "they always are, I just never got into those."
"I just heard about 'em," Morgan admitted.
"Seriously?" Claire scoffed in true disbelief, "You're a witch, though."
Morgan shrugged and looked away as she spoke, "Yeah, I've kinda lived under a rock."
"What'dya mean?" Claire inclined her head and Morgan glanced at a kind face she wasn't expecting from the previously mean blonde.
"My Mother didn't let me do much," Morgan said simply, "She taught me 'n wasn't big on popular American, well anything," she scoffed to herself, thinking of the times she'd snuck an old television show or stolen a rock CD in desperation to join the world outside her Mother's control.
"She taught you magic?" Claire asked eagerly.
Giving Claire a secretive smile, Morgan knew a simple yes wouldn't suffice and felt like showing off a little anyway. Glancing quickly at her brothers, who'd returned to their own quiet conversation, she cupped her hands between herself and Claire, both girls staring into the bowl her palms created. Claire gave a small gasp as a small purple flame grew in the center, looping around the circle of Morgan's hands, it began to shimmy into the shape of a young woman and Morgan slowly flattened her hand, letting the tiny fire girl dance across her fingers.
"Hey, what're you doin'?" Dean's low growl startled Morgan into snapping her hands together, the little dancer disappearing in a small puff of purple smoke escaping between her fingers.
"Do that again," Sam turned around in the front seat, his eyes narrowed in intrigue.
Morgan looked at Sam, then met Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror, at his curt nod of approval she cupped her hands again and in a moment, the tiny girl of fire was spinning across her palms. Separating her hands a little, she made her leap small distances from one fingertip to the next, finally spinning her at the end of her thumb until she was going so fast the little dancer slowly evaporated into purple smoke.
"That was incredible," Sam's eyes were wide and still staring at Morgan's hands.
"Yeah, just, holy crap," Claire agreed with a similar expression.
"That's nothing," Morgan giggled a little, "I used to do that for hours when I was- uh- bored," relieved she'd stopped herself from saying 'locked up'.
"No," Claire shook her head with a determined gaze on Morgan, "that's frickin' cool. I bet you can do a lot of other stuff too, huh?"
"Claire," Sam sighed as Dean warned.
"Yeah," Morgan nodded at her, ignoring her brothers, with a smile inviting Claire to do the same, "I can make stuff fly, 'n well obviously, you know I can scry," both girls blushed a little.
"Yeah," Claire, cringed at her, "sorry about that."
"S'ok," Morgan nodded, happy to move on from the topic, "I'm pretty successful with most potions, at least the ones I've tried've turned out well," when she was always the test subject, her motivation was high to get it right the first time, "I can slow, stop and briefly reverse time, like really briefly I'm not very good at it-"
"I beg to differ," Dean raised his hand with a smile in the rearview mirror.
Morgan smiled back at him before turning again to Claire, "Basic attack spells y'know, I haven't really figured out mind control on humans, but I can control animals," Claire looked shocked, Sam however cleared his throat with a near choking sound.
"You can control animals?" Sam turned again in the front seat, having just resettled himself forward a few moments before.
"Sure," Morgan shrugged obviously at him, "I can communicate with them too."
"Like all the time?" Dean asked suddenly, as if the thought was exhausting.
"No," Morgan scoffed, "it's a just a spell."
"Yeah," Dean nodded, "but then y'gotta wait for it to wear off, 'n the taste'a that crap takes days to wash out."
Morgan giggled, "I've no idea what you're talkin' about, I just turn it on 'n off y'know like everything else. Whatever you did sounds terrible though."
"Coronel was okay," Dean shrugged.
"I thought witches were old though," Claire stated quizzically, "You're younger than me."
"She's special," Sam nodded with a wink at Morgan to say that was plenty explanation and she smiled at him in agreeance, the older blonde girl shrugged in acceptance of this vague reply.
The rest of the trip to the bunker wasn't bad, surprisingly to Morgan, in fact, it was actually sort of fun. She'd never really gotten to talk to another girl close to her age so openly and for so long, while Claire was four years older, the difference didn't seem so great sitting equally in the backseat telling each other lighthearted stories of their pasts. Morgan mostly listened.
At one point, Claire showed Morgan some of the games and applications on her smart phone, a device the young witch had obviously seen, despite her residency under a rock, countless times. And while she used to be intrigued at them, her curiosity had been curbed after having the audacity to say something out loud about it within earshot of her Mother. The twist in her stomach evaporated quickly remembering her Mother was dead, instinctual guilt at her relief caused a fresh twinge of rapidly fading discomfort as Claire and she took turns watching their faces get strangely distorted by camera filters, laughing madly at the results. She showed Morgan one they had to use together, mimicking how the blonde leaned into the middle and looking in the camera, a moment later they were both laughing loudly but from the other's head. Moran knew she saw Sam and Dean smile at each other in the front seat.
00000000000000000000000
"Hey, Morgan, wake up, we're home," a large hand gently shook her awake and Morgan opened her eyes to see Sam turned to her from the front seat, the Impala parked perfectly centered in the bright garage.
Sam got out and opened her door, now that she wasn't leaning against it on her pillow, Morgan clutched it sleepily and grabbed her book as she slid out of the backseat, blinking under the old lamps lining the garage ceiling. Sam slung his duffel bag over one shoulder and slammed the trunk closed.
"Where's mine?" Morgan asked through a stifled yawn.
"Dean grabbed it," Sam gestured her out of the garage, into the familiar clean tiled hallways of the bunker, "he's showin' Claire a room."
She followed Sam passed the library, into the corridor that lead to the kitchen and their rooms, and Dean walked out of her bedroom towards his own across the hall with his heavy duffel bag in hand.
"I'm gonna grab a shower," Dean announced, tossing his bag with one hand onto his bed from the doorway, "Anybody else hungry?" Sam and Morgan both nodded, "We're down to frozen pizzas 'n tv dinners," they both shrugged with exhaustion that that was fine.
Morgan shut the door of her bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief at being alone for the first time since Alex left Jody's house. It seemed like forever ago she'd been here and she relished the feeling of being back in her own space. Her duffel sat on the dresser, Morgan felt a surge of happiness as she unpacked her brand-new clothes into her dresser, with so many, she organized a drawer for pants, two for shirts and one for socks and underwear, stepping back to smile at the neat stacks of her brothers' generosity. Closing the drawers slowly, Morgan noticed the heap of spell books at the other end of the long, short dresser and remembered her silent precautionary plan.
Skimming through her Mother's most worn, leather-bound compilation of magic, handwritten by her, each incantation, spell and potion was picked for its importance, its power and its rarity. This was not the book she was looking for, however, as she reached the end and didn't find the sketching she had in her head that accompanied the unknown words below. Picking up another of her Mother's old books, this one was ancient and printed on an old press hundreds of years before, one of her Mother's first spell books. On the first few pages of the section listed 'Suscipiet' she found the protection spell she was searching for 'Tueri Igni', the line of fire, illustrated with several small flames under the title.
Choosing a part of her room between the end of the bed and door where no furniture obstructed a perfect line from one wall to the other and spread her thin fingers, pacing the line as she whispered the incantation three times, "Ignis linea protégé, et ignis hostes linea conserva, custodies me in linea ignis."
As she spoke, a transparent light followed across the floor and travelled up to the ceiling, creating a wall that as soon as it completed itself, vanished. Morgan could feel the power as she stuck a hand over the line, smiling at her first successful attempt at a spell she'd watched her Mother perform many times. This was one of the most effective protections her Mother had used in emergencies or temporary situations, but because of the type of magic it was, Morgan had had to touch her Mother's skin when she performed it. Something her Mother had always reminded her was a disgusting necessity so the fire line wouldn't work against the little girl. Morgan's opinion towards Claire had improved on the ride home, but years of learned distrust taught her it was better to be safe than sorry, she had no intention in being caught vulnerable if Claire was hiding animosity.
"Morgan!" Dean called from outside her door, "Pizza's almost done, c'mon 'n eat!"
"Comin'!" she called back, hopped over the line, feeling a familiar warmth briefly absorb her body, and shut her door on the way out.
Sam and Claire were sitting at the kitchen table together, talking animatedly and pointing at his laptop, Dean was pulling two hot pizzas from the oven.
"I'm not sayin' it's not worth it, Claire," Sam said, holding his hands up at her, "but it's a hundred 'n fifty-year-old mental institution with a half-acre of unmarked graves. It's the definition of a needle in a haystack."
"But those are patients," Claire urged at him, Morgan looked at Dean who rolled his eyes and returned to cutting slices of hot pizza, "the story says it was a doctor, his daughter was mentally ill and he kept her locked up, tryin' every awful thing to cure her."
"So, maybe it's the daughter," Sam shrugged.
"Maybe," Claire looked away, clearly having not considered that option.
"What we have to pay attention to here," Sam adjusted the laptop and inch towards Claire and scrolled down the page, "is the date, something happened on September, 28th, if we find out the significance of that date in Nigel, we'll find our ghost."
"Nigel Mental Institution?" Morgan turned at the familiar town name and understood immediately what they were discussing.
"You know it?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at his sister.
"Mother and I lived there a few years ago," she nodded and peered at his computer screen, seeing lists of unknown deaths, every year on the same day going back as far as they'd kept records, "The Lily Kyle story?"
"That was her name," Claire nodded, "the doctor's daughter."
Morgan shook her head, sitting across from Sam, "She was a minister's daughter," remembering the story she'd overheard in her Mother's kitchen years before, "and was kinda, well, promiscuous, his friend was one of the head doctors at the institution at the time and with his help they locked her up, you're right about the awful things they did, but it was to curb her interest in, well y'know," Morgan blushed a little as she finished.
"Sex," Claire said simply with an amused grin at Morgan, who nodded in response, "you're such a prude," she giggled.
"We're okay with that," Dean interjected from the counter, winking at Morgan when she glanced at him.
"How'd you know this?" Sam returned to the subject with an intrigued look at her.
"I overheard a hunter asking Mother for help identifying the ghost, I wasn't involved, but I heard bits 'n pieces over the few hours they spoke. His name was Ardy, I only remember 'cause he kept sayin' it even though Mother called him Arnold repeatedly."
"Arden Gilipsie," Sam said, his eyes on his screen, "deceased September 28th, 2012. S'that 'bout the time you and your Mother lived there?"
"It wasn't long after they talked we left, I was twelve," Morgan thought, "I remember takin' the train to Chicago, we stayed there for like a week, it was kinda cold out, and the train was packed with Cubs fans, Mother nearly put a freezing spell on everyone in our car and mumbled about her hatred for baseball."
"Coulda been October," Sam shrugged.
"Not with the Chicago Cubs," Dean interjected.
"They're lookin' pretty good for the world series this year," Sam challenged.
"Yeah, that ain't gonna happen," Dean scoffed, putting two sliced pizzas on the table and turning back for a small stack of plates on the counter.
"Guys," Claire stared at the two Winchester men with a bored expression, "Can we get back to the case?"
"Why?" Dean asked sitting finally at the table, "Y'plannin' on takin' it?"
Claire looked incredulously at him, "Yeah, we're hunters, this is what we do."
"Right now," Dean crossed his arms at her in a fashion Morgan was very familiar with, "we're doin' some home schoolin' style trainin'."
"Dean," Claire implored with frustration, Morgan and Sam stared at each other uncomfortably and both took large bites of pizza in necessary distraction, "This ghost is gonna kill somebody else in three days if we don't stop it!"
Dean sighed with a quick glance at the dark-haired girl shoveling pizza in her mouth, clearly torn between his instinct to kill a ghost and his stronger predisposition to protect his family.
"One of us could go," Sam shrugged and immediately put his hands in a defensive position from the glare Dean shot at him, "Claire could get some practice-"
"Wanna talk 'bout how great your last solo hunt went, Sammy?" Dean asked bitterly and Sam glanced down for a moment seemingly defeated.
"Why can't we all go?" Claire looked around at the Winchesters and Morgan fixed her eyes on the empty plate in front of her, heating rising in her cheeks and ears.
"We're workin' on somethin' here," Dean responded simply with an eyebrow raise at Claire that even she understood and clamped her lips together with a dissatisfied huff.
"Dean," Sam ignored the stern eyes he received from his brother, "Why don't you take her? Morgan 'n I could keep goin' on the library 'n binge some Harry Potter movies," Morgan could tell Dean was fighting with himself at this idea and was surprised when he met her eyes with a questioning brow raise, silently asking her opinion.
Morgan nodded earnestly, she could tell her oldest brother was itching to kill something supernatural and had missed the nest of vampires in Sioux Falls to take her to the hospital. For a few silent moments, she and Dean continued their silent conversation before they grinned at each other and with a final nod he turned to Claire.
"Ok, be ready to roll out firs' thing in the morning," Dean said gruffly and Claire almost bounced in her chair with excitement, "I'm talkin' like 5am kid, we gotta ten-hour drive ahead'a us."
Claire nodded eagerly at him with a mouthful of pizza, eating happily after getting her way. Morgan felt a pang of lonely jealousy realizing Dean would be leaving for several days, but Sam's shoulder squeeze and encouraging smile, when he caught her disheartened look, was enough to remind her she still had one brother all to herself. Morgan smiled back at Sam, remembering the last time she and Sam had been alone together, she was suddenly excited at the prospect of testing some new spells away from Dean's watchful eyes.
Everyone was exhausted from the trip and now that Dean and Claire were getting ready to leave early the next morning, he declared it was bedtime for everyone when both pizzas had been reduced to a pile of crumbs. Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother's order, but the long yawn that followed stifled any argument he would have made against it and they all made their way to their bedrooms.
Morgan said good night in the hall, slipping into her room and over the warm, invisible fire line. Quickly changing into sweatpants and one of Dean's old shirts he'd given her to sleep in on her first night, she heard a knock on her door.
"Come in," she called absentmindedly and saw Dean slip in at her invitation.
"Hey, I just wanted to-" but an agonizing yell cut the rest of his sentence short and Morgan screamed, lunging at her brother as he cradled a burned hand in the other.
"DEAN!" she cried frantically as he backed away from her.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" He yelled so loud, clutching red, raw fingers to his chest, that her door swung open and Claire followed Sam over the threshold, but Dean threw his good arm across them both to halt any further entrance as he glowered angrily down at Morgan.
"I'm, I'm s-sorry," tears were streaming down her cheeks seeing the pain and anger she caused on her brother's face, "I-I can fix it," she said quickly and rushed towards the spell book she'd used before, fumbling to the 'Remedium' section and scanning the words as fast as she could until she found the ones she needed.
"Dean," she turned to him with teary eyes, he was still seething at her, but trustingly extended his badly burned hand, wincing at her gentle touch as she quickly yelled the incantation she'd never tried before with all the conviction she could muster, "cure ardebit!"
The pained expression on his handsome face was replaced with relief, but quickly returned to anger and Morgan felt her stomach twist, averting her eyes from his.
"Sam, Claire," Dean growled, his eyes still locked on the little witch cowering in front of him, "Get out."
They moved so quickly Morgan barely saw them leave before the door closed and she was alone with her very angry big brother. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she was waiting for him to yell, but when he didn't, she slowly raised her head to look at him through long eyelashes.
"Explain," he breathed, trying to remain calm, but the twitch in his jaw told Morgan he was right on the edge.
A hitch in her throat threatened sobbing and her face broke again into small cries, but Dean crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes further at her, silently waiting for a response.
Morgan took a deep, shuddering breath, "I'm sorry," Dean's expression didn't change, but the vein in his forehead throbbed aggressively, "I was just," she searched for words and quickly started to realize how stupid her plan had been from the beginning, "I just- I didn't want- Claire was so mean about me being a witch 'n I just didn't want to be sleeping and she'd try to, just- well-"
"You were worried Claire would try to kill you under my roof?" Dean growled angrily and suddenly her entire plan was obviously idiotic, all she could do was hang her head and nod in pathetic admittance, "D'you actually think I'd bring someone here if I had the smallest impression they might try to hurt you?" keeping her eyes locked on her feet, Morgan shook her head with fresh tears welling in her eyes, "D'ja consider Sam or I would come in 'n check on you? Your little fire trick could've really hurt someone, Morgan! Did you even think about that?!"
Tears were hitting her bare feet and her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back the sobs wracking her tiny frame. She wanted nothing more than his forgiveness, but knew she didn't deserve it.
"Morgan," Dean's tone demanded she look at him and slowly she raised her teary eyes to his angry matching set, "take it down right now," with a small nod she turned and pulled her hands down in front of her, mumbling 'ignis finem' three times and saw the transparent shimmer disappear to the floor, turning back to her brother she returned her gaze to her feet, but he tugged her chin up to him with a finger so she couldn't look away, "I'm not done with you," her stomach twisted at the words she used to hear hissed by her Mother, instinctually wincing in preparation for a strike to her head.
Dean released her chin and pulled the desk chair out, gesturing her to have a seat, which she did without any further prompting. He grabbed a notebook from the stack in the corner of the desk, flipped it open in front of her and set a pen on top, her face still tear streaked, Morgan looked at him with confusion.
"I will trust my brothers to keep me safe at home," he pointed to the top of the page, "write it," he waited as he she finished the sentence on the top line and looked back at him for further instruction, "keep goin'," he growled low, "three pages, back 'n front, right now."
Morgan nodded, it was quite possibly the easiest punishment she'd ever been given, or so she thought. Dean left the room with the promise to return soon as she hunched over the notebook rewriting the sentence over and over. After the fourth time, she felt the guilt swirling more fiercely in her stomach, by the tenth she was crying again and continued to wipe tears away with her cramping hand. She'd only finished a page and a half by the time Dean returned to check on her progress, she didn't look up, feeling him lean over the desk. He said nothing and left again a moment later, at the sound of the closing door Morgan burst into a fresh sob, but forced herself to continue writing shakily. The words were sinking in with every period she dotted at the end of each sentence. There was no reason for her not to trust them, her brothers had proven their protectiveness over her in several circumstances within their short time together. She'd injured Dean and could have seriously hurt either of them with the fire line, all because Claire had made an offhanded comment in anger about practicing hunting skills on her. Turning to a fresh page, Morgan cried again and didn't bother to shake out the cramp in her hand before beginning again to write more lines.
I will trust my brothers to keep me safe at home. The words were pointed and deliberate, reminding her with each stroke of the pen that she had a home and brothers and her mistakes would affect them. Her sobs subsided into pathetic sniffles by the final third page, having never felt this chastised in all her years of being punished physically and almost wished Dean had simply beaten her in his anger. He returned to her room, changed in sweatpants and a clean t-shirt, just as she was completing the final sentence.
Morgan set the pen down, but didn't turn, unsure if she was allowed to and waited as Dean leaned over, nodding at the three filled pages of lines, blotched with tears. Without a word, he took her hand, pulling the shaking young witch to stand in front of him and wrapped his strong arms around her. At the embrace she craved, Morgan burst into fresh tears, clinging to her brother and repeating her earnest apology as she shook in his arms. Slowly regaining control, she heard Dean hushing her quietly and felt him plant a soft kiss on the top of her head.
"I'm so sorry, Dean," she sniffled as he held her away from him a little, still holding her wrists.
"I know," he nodded, the anger from earlier having left his expression, and sat on her bed, pulling her next to him, "But if you're scared 'bout somethin' you need to talk to me or Sam, and never, ever think that we would do anything, or bring anyone around you, that would put you in harm's way. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded at him, rubbing her right hand from the uncomfortable cramping still lingering in her palm.
"Y'ever gonna pull some crap like that again?" Dean raised his eyebrows at her.
She shook her head vigorously.
"Good," he nodded, "'cause the next time you get lines you're writin'em on a sore ass. Got me?" Morgan stared at him with wide terrified eyes, before Dean shook his head sighing, "I'm not gonna beat you, Morgan, you know that, but if you've never had a spanking before you're in for a rude awakening," she shook her head in honest confusion, "It ain't fun, for anyone involved, but little girl, I will wear out my hand on your behind if you deserve it," she felt a twinge of embarrassment at those words, not understanding exactly what they meant, but her Mother's beatings had never come with warnings and she'd certainly never aimed for one body part, seemingly satisfied as long as she made contact with the girl's skin, Dean shrugged, "y'pro'bly deserved it now," giving her a shoulder a lighthearted nudge.
"Then, why didn't you?" the question spilled quietly from her lips before she could catch it, afraid he'd change his mind.
"Too angry," he scoffed a little, offering her a small smile, "by the time I calmed down enough, I realized the lines were havin' the affect I was goin' for, 'n I think you were already pretty upset at yourself when you saw what happened, huh?"
She nodded at him, "I'd never want to hurt you, Dean, I love you," the last words trailed off as her face grew hot from the admittance of her adoration towards her oldest brother, it was the first time she'd ever said 'I love you' to anyone.
His arms wrapped around her again tightly and he pulled her easily onto his lap, "I love you, too, Brat," and with a joking glare continued, "don't you dare tell Sammy I said that."
She giggled a little and hugged him back, wishing he wouldn't leave and knowing she would miss him like crazy for the next few days. Finally, he scooped her up, lying her in her bed and tossing the blanket over her before placing one more kiss on her forehead and promising he'd see her in a few days. Morgan turned over when he flicked her light off and closed her eyes, listening to the ticking of the analog clock on her wall, knowing she was safe at home in her bed with her brothers protecting her.