Morgan ran her fingertips through the kitten's cloud-like fur in gentle strokes as it lounged on her lap, content from its evening feeding. It was a generous distraction from the silence of the living room. Sure enough, not long after Jasper's ghost story, Carlisle called her downstairs for the inevitable family discussion. Though she wasn't quite the disappointment she'd assumed, the looks of disapproval from some were heavy gazes, and it was hard to appear jovial.

In fact, she fought to keep the corners of her mouth neutral, much less upright. Still, Esme and Carlisle were gentle and precise in their approach to the conversation topic. It wasn't their intention to put her under an uncomfortable spotlight, but rather to offer a group reminder why the boundaries they held remained in place. "Did you know the wolves would hear your heartbeat and let you go?" Carlisle asked the question gingerly.

Morgan shook her head briefly. "I wondered. I didn't know."

"Sweetheart, the treaty line exists to keep us all at peace with the Quileute people," he reminded, lighthearted but firm in tone. "It's a miracle what you did wasn't seen as a transgression. We don't want to fight with them. But if you had gotten into trouble across the line, we would be forced to. It's important, for your safety as much as theirs, that you mind the treaty carefully."

Though she exhaled the urge to argue her side with vigor and gave a calm nod, she didn't reserve herself to silence. Instead, she adjusted in her seat to sit more upright, cupping the kitten in her lap to avoid tossing it aside. "I know what the treaty means. But so does Billy Black. He of all people understands its importance, and he's genuinely happy to see me—on his land. He introduced me to Jacob. He welcomed me into his home. He obviously knows I'm not like you. To him, I'm just some human kid. The response would be much different if I wasn't welcome regardless, wouldn't you say?"

The reply was diplomatically spoken, with a calm but firm tone mimicking Carlisle's, and he found himself sitting back in his chair as he eyed her. There was a conflict in his chest. Should he be proud, or concerned? "He's using you to get information, Morgan," Rosalie stated, words clipped, with her arms crossed tight over her chest where she stood by the wall. Being dark outside, the indoor lighting reflected her frame in the glass, doubling her stubbornly frustrated demeanor.

"And? I'm not going to give him any. So, what's the real problem?" Morgan's eyebrows lifted as she looked across the room at Rosalie. It was a subtle challenge, brought on by her own frustration, and Rosalie's jaw set as she continued. "If they're accepting, there's nothing wrong with interacting with them in a friendly way. They're harmless."

"They're dogs," Rosalie insisted. Her nose wrinkled in an expression of disgust. Emmett sent a pointed look in her direction, warning her to dial back the aggression from beside her, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Morgan's brows knitted, eyes narrowing in an expression of disbelief and disgust. "They're people, Rose! Nixie is a dog. You don't have a problem with me turning into a fucking fish from the waist down, but the natives turning into wolves is the deal breaker? You know how that sounds?"

Nixie perked up at the sound of her name, waking from a dead sleep at Morgan's feet but was ignored as Rosalie took a step away from the glass and Carlisle stood up, watching her closely while she glared down at Morgan on the couch. "How dare you insinuate that I hate them because of their skin color," she hissed, though more quietly.

"How else do you explain only seeing the non-white people as sub-human?!" Morgan countered. Her voice was risen with confusion, frustration, and shock. Only a chuckle broke through the tension, drawing all eyes to the other end of the couch. Edward rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the arm rest, away from the conversation, as a blurted chuckle turned into a bubbling laughter that worsened by the second.

Rosalie's deathly sharp stare turned on him, but Emmett wrapped his arm around her shoulders, fingers encircling her wrist to aid him as he guided her away. It was the smartest thing to do. Carlisle gave Emmett a nod, and he returned it before they'd passed the other couch, disappearing through the archway. Morgan could've sworn she saw smoke trailing from the other room in their wake. Though, she didn't regret what she'd said. Nothing else made sense to her when asking, what was so wrong with the wolves?

The reaction was always sharp and full of genuine disgust. Perhaps the wolves weren't lesser for their ethnicity, and instead simply lesser because they weren't her? Either way, the treatment was unjust and she'd grown tired of hearing it. And, now that she was friends with Jacob and his father, she had far too many examples to combat that way of thinking with. However, it was Edward's reaction to the current argument that was truly surprising.

Morgan wondered just what he'd heard, staring at him silently as he continued to laugh, despite the shaking of Esme's head—a signal to stop, to take the conversation seriously. Somehow, his features looked genuinely tired even as he removed his hand from his face. "Welcome to model UN," he suddenly quipped, dryly. "You just started a war with the Russians. What's your solution?"

His head lulled on his shoulders slightly as it turned, eyes settling on hers for the first time since their earlier argument. "Give them time to pull their heads out of their asses before I press the shiny red button on my desk," Morgan replied, allowing sarcasm amidst the remaining frustration in her gut.

"You're not going to try to hold peace talks?"

Morgan shrugged with a sly smirk. "I've always wanted to see what it does."

"While I don't believe Rosalie had racist intentions, I understand where you're coming from. I think we could all use a dose of humility," Carlisle spoke up, turning both their heads. But he looked directly at Morgan as he said, "So long as the Blacks are hospitable, you're allowed to interact with them as you see fit, under the condition that you tell us the moment their feelings toward you change—if they ever should."

Pleasantly surprised, Morgan nodded quickly in agreement. It would be an easy condition to fulfill. After all, who else would she turn to should danger reveal itself? Although, she wasn't so sure that it would—at least, not in the way they were all thinking. "And no more sneaking around. Tell us where you're going," Esme added.

"I will, I promise," Morgan continued to nod, eyes shifting between her parents.

"And the cat?" Jasper asked, from the other couch. He tilted his head toward her, an eyebrow raised as he looked up at Carlisle.

But Carlisle exhaled, the corners of his mouth upturning as he glanced at the furry creature in Morgan's lap, before turning to look at Jasper. "It can stay for now. We can reassess it when its old enough to be homed," he answered him.

Alice perked up beside Jasper. "Does it have a name?"

"Not yet," Morgan shook her head.

"How about something original, like 'dust bunny'?" Edward's voice sounded like a grumble despite the neutral expression on his face. It was an odd contradiction, along with the generally sarcastic nature of the question.

He watched her closely for a reaction. A sign that he'd trespassed harmfully once again. However, a new thought stuck out to him like a dot of red on a blue canvas, and he found himself rigid. An urge to question Jasper surged within him as he fought to keep his sigh moderate. She knew. Morgan knew what happened in Halifax, what caused them to leave. Though, most frighteningly, she knew why he distanced himself from her.

The idea of it was pure terror coursing through every muscle, but the sound of her inner monologue was like water on a campfire, steam billowing up like a hazy cloud of comfort. It was hope in his chest blooming in the wake. Color grown up from the salted earth after a forest fire. She wasn't angry. There were no plans to argue, to yell, to resent. Instead, she was just sad. Sad and hurt—equally parts selfishly and on his behalf.

"I was considering 'Bugs'," Morgan glanced at him knowingly, eyes lingering a moment on the odd look of his face. "Because it's gray, like Bugs Bunny, and I feel like it's going to have quite the personality. What a coincidence."

Edward blinked slowly, but his voice was soft. "Well. Great minds."

"Bugs is an adorable name, Morgan," Alice smiled brightly, attempting to lighten the mood with an upbeat tone. If anything, it gave Morgan an excuse to turn away. Though, Edward was given the excuse to leave, getting up from the couch in a poorly concealed haste.

"If that's all," he said, looking to Carlisle alone, before moving to exit the room.

Carlisle nodded, but it wasn't truly necessary. Edward had turned his back almost immediately, striding toward the doorway to the living room quickly. The abruptness of the exit drew eyes. However, Morgan kept hers forward. It was inevitable, much like their prior headbutting—he was going to find out what had been discussed in her room, what Jasper had confessed to her. She hadn't expected him to have a positive reaction to it, so it was no surprise when he made his quick escape.

But she'd wished he'd stayed, tried a little harder, held out a little longer. And he knew that—which was probably the hardest pill of the situation to swallow. How could he know exactly how she felt and still pull away so hard? How could he read her thoughts and intentions and still believe staying the course was the best option? It made no sense to her. Morgan eventually excused herself from the gathering. Or, what remained of it.

There was far too much on her mind to focus on anything of importance. So, she placed Bugs in its basket and turned off her light before heading back downstairs. It was time for her nightly soak. Although, the idea of sitting in the tub in silence with such a high thought volume felt too much like a method of torture to attempt. Instead, she took the second set of stairs down to the basement pool room, walking quietly to avoid questioning.

She often tried to sneak around the house and her vampiric siblings simply ignored her. It was helpful for her to feel like she could keep some things to herself, Esme had said. It gave her a sense of normalcy. And, in fact, it did. But Morgan knew very well that they could hear her now, at least to some extent. Her heartbeat gave her away most times. It thrummed loudly in her chest like a metronome, the steady pulse following her around the house like her own personal drummer.

The basement room was empty when she arrived, and it was a relief. She needed to do this part alone. And it gave her more privacy to undress her bottom half—and part of the top—before making her way to the pool's deeper end. The stone floor was cold against her bare skin as she eased herself down atop the edge, slipping her feet into the warmth of the pool water. It shimmered beneath the lights, illuminated from within by a gentle glow.

There was nothing about this water that wasn't inviting. She had to be quick in getting in, in case one of the others found her there, a little too bare for comfort. So she simply pushed herself over the edge with a quick shove, pushing against the stone edge. Her body was greeted kindly by the temperature, the salt, and it wrapped itself around her like a soft blanket from the dryer as she sank swiftly toward the texture bottom.

Almost to the floor, she allowed her legs to join and grow. The scales glistened even in the water as they covered the entire mass of her tail. A wave of relief washed over her then, crashing atop her head in a rush of peace and quiet. The silence was comforting. It felt like her thoughts had suddenly been muted, nothing but the slosh of the water as it lapped at the edges of the pool and the wisping of tiny bubbles as she began to swim left in her ears.

The corners of her mouth curved up as her body glided effortlessly toward to very deepest part of the pool. Once again, it was as though her lungs had paused within her chest, and she stilled her movements to reach a hand toward her neck. There, her skin opened and closed, frilling at the thin edges from the swiftness. Bittersweet was the bubble in her gut. Something deep inside wanted to feel excitement, and her mind was so close to following.

She resumed moving forward only to twist, giving an extra thrust of her tail, a snap or two of the fluke, to spin over slowly. Then, she turned at the end of the pool's length and began back toward the more shallow sections. But she dipped down, pushing her way to reach out, running the pads of her fingers over the texture of the bottom as she followed its gradual incline. In a way, the pool's vast expanse felt empty—a loneliness, a silence that would bother her greatly anywhere else. But it felt almost right.

This was how she was supposed to feel, she knew. She was born to be in water much more open and vast than this glorified fish tank in the basement. Water so deep that darkness swallowed its inhabitants with no hope of ever letting in the sun. Alternatively, water deep enough to enjoy but shallow enough to feel safe. Home to kelp forests or reef corals, unbothered by the sting of the sun's rays beneath the chilled surface.

For the first time, she wondered what that kind of life would be like. Could she even stomach catching fish from their home? Or face that never ending darkness always below her, harboring unseen things both friendly and dangerous? Would she get bored being out there all alone? Her mind traveled to the possibility of finding others like her. Surely, they existed. After all, how could she without them? Though, that thought was too depressing to linger on for long.


Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year. Bullshit. More like, most challenging.

Morgan watched through the steam of her tea as Alice directed Emmett, Jasper, and Edward on where to stand up the tree. A robust douglas fir, the chosen tree was quite tall, perfect for the pounds of decorations Alice had planned to use. Though, it hardly fit through the front door, even with the maneuvering help of four supernaturally powered people. It was much more entertaining to watch than to try to help and get in the way.

Alice was radiant, absolutely beaming with joy and excitement as the tree finally stood in the living room. It came at the cost of all the boys' shirts being ruined with sap, but there were much more pressing things to worry about. "Can I have a Christmas party this year? A small one?" Morgan asked, as she tipped her head back to look up at Carlisle and Esme, stood just behind the couch.

The couple shared a glance. While there was nothing truly incriminating in the house, it was a nerve wracking proposition. Inviting outsiders into their home? They were unsure. Though, to feel out the details of Morgan's request, Carlisle looked down at her and smiled. "And just who are we inviting to this party?"

She knew he was humoring her. Still, she adjusted on the couch cushions to better see them both, taking the conversation as seriously as if they'd said yes. "I have six people in my lunch group now—Liz, Martin, Lucas, Mikayla, Tommy, and Drew—and they're all really nice," Morgan assured them, causing Carlisle to chuckle. "They'll be respectful and won't try to trash the place like crazy teenagers. It would be chill."

"You're icing that cake a little thick there, Fisher Price," Emmett quipped from across the room.

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "Keep it up, old man, and your present this year is going to be a package of Depends."

Carlisle drew her attention back to the conversation then, asking a question she'd hoped wouldn't be on the table. "Would you be inviting Jacob to this party?" he inquired of her, calm in his delivery despite the interrogative nature. It was partially rhetorical. Of course she would want to invite him. Though, it would be cruel to extend an invitation knowing he wouldn't be allowed to attend.

"I don't think so," Morgan shook her head, fighting a sigh of disappointment.

"Won't you need another person for the secret santa?" Alice asked, from across the room. Her features turned serious, raising an eyebrow, as she added, "You are doing a secret santa, aren't you?"

It was natural for Alice to have strong feelings regarding event planning—after all, she was in charge of planning nearly every family occasion for the last fifteen years. A small laugh escaped Morgan. "I can ask the others if they're cool with that."

"Well, I don't see why a small celebration with friends would hurt," Carlisle said. He looked to Esme, but she smiled warmly up at him, giving a nod of agreement. As he looked back at Morgan, he continued. "The rest of us will make ourselves scarce, let you have some space to entertain."

"We'll need to go shopping for supplies as soon as possible—and you'll need to get the invitations out in tomorrow's mail. We can go right now if you don't have homework," Alice offered, coming to stand across the coffee table from Morgan, still on the couch.

She nodded quickly, getting up from the couch. "I'll get my coat."

"We'll keep an eye on Bugs for you," Jasper offered, using his hand to dust needles from the tree out of his sweater.

"Thank you. He'll need fed in an hour, but he just hangs out and sleeps," Morgan smiled in thanks, and Jasper nodded in return with a small smile of his own.

Her feet moved swiftly, carrying her around the end of the couch and racing into the kitchen. She discarded of her mug near the sink before speeding through the other archway out of the kitchen, all but running toward the stairs. "Are we sure this is a good idea?" Edward asked, looking to Carlisle from the doorway to the living room. He stood half in, half out—like he did in most situations. But his concerns were genuine and not held lightly.

Carlisle nodded once, exhaling. "She needs to form bonds with other people. Human people. I fear she's been cooped up with us far too long. Remember, she's not like us. She needs social interaction with humans to keep her development on track."

"But she's not human," Edward pointed out. Though his voice was a bit quiet, his tone was quite clear. It was thick and gruff and bitter. "They'll abandon her when they find out like they will us. How is that going to help her 'development'?"

"We can't protect her from everything, Edward. How to handle rejection is an important lesson to learn. We can minimize, but we can't prevent," Carlisle argued, lighthearted.

Edward understood what Carlisle was trying to do. However, the idea of knowing a danger lurked but allowing Morgan to face it alone regardless was a difficult one to swallow. No one wants their child, their friend, their sibling, to go through something painful. Sometimes it was easy to rationalize it as Carlisle did—like a parent simply trying to teach a lesson, just distant enough to remove any real pain from being a witness to the crime. But Edward wasn't capable of such removal.

He couldn't help but feel every sway of his stomach, twisting in his torso like a dull blade, only worsened by the echo of her excited and hopeful thoughts as she neared from the stairs. She was returning with her coat and hat on, ready to leave. Despite her smile and the otherwise jovial aura of the room, Edward walked right past her through the entrance to the living room. Morgan twisted on her feet as her eyes followed him out. What had she missed? He'd seemed relatively fine before she left. Now, his features were almost pained.

But, as she looked to Carlisle for explanation, he shook his head in dismissal. "Don't mind him," he verbally waved away the sudden mood change. "Enjoy yourselves shopping today. Remember to call if you need us."

Morgan nodded numbly as she forced herself to swallow, to return a smile to her face. Though, she doubted it looked natural. But Alice had rushed to get her coat as well, blurring to the front door in a brief wisp of color before calling to her. "You ready?" she asked, pulling the door open for them both.

"Coming!"

Turning on her heels, Morgan darted out of the living room. She raced toward the door, and Alice waved to the others in the living room before following Morgan outside, pulling the door closed behind them. There was so much to be accomplished in such a short time. The biggest concern? Decorations. Lord knows the Cullens had Christmas decorations, but they needed more modern, more festive decor. They couldn't invite over a group of teenagers with stockings hung up from the Victorian era.

Alice insisted on taking a larger car than Morgan's beetle, and Morgan had to agree—there wasn't much room for supplies in the beetle. So, they took Alice's car, but Morgan was able to drive. Their first stop? The grocery store. Alice wrote up a list on the way, talking herself through suggestions for hors d'oeuvres that weren't truly suggestions, more making plans with herself. But Morgan listened for the final selections. After all, it was her party. She didn't want anything extravagant.

It needed to be cozy, simple, but still fun. She didn't want to go overboard and look like a show-off, and she wanted to make sure she could put together the dishes herself. Though, Alice decided on things like pigs in a blanket, topped crackers, and various winter cookies. "For dinner, do we want options or a single protein?" Alice asked.

Morgan eased the car into a parking space as she replied, "Maybe single protein?"

"In that case, salmon would be perfect. We can use that garlic recipe you love."

"Okay," Morgan nodded, though hesitant. "But there should be something a little less…fancy."

Alice paused, thinking. "We could steam asparagus? And potatoes. They would pair nicely with the fish."

Morgan unclipped her seat belt with a small smirk. "All that Food Network is paying off. Asparagus and potatoes sounds good," she said, and opened her door. It had taken each of the Cullens a long time to reconnect with cooking. None of them were particularly savvy in the kitchen to begin with, but cooking methods and flavor preferences change over time, and there was so much to learn. Though, it was easy to handle Morgan's early years.

The baby food stage was simple. When she started caring a little more about flavors and textures in her toddler stage, it became only a bit more difficult. It was the child stage that decimated their illusions of possessing cooking skill. They simply had to take others' word for it when it came to flavor, and eventually Morgan was able to help out in the kitchen herself. Still, Esme wanted to be able to cook for her daughter like a human mother.

She wanted that feeling of normalcy. Of making dinner and sitting at the table like a family. Perhaps that's why she was first to truly grasp the skill? Alice never shied away from a challenge, and the quality time with Morgan was well spent, so she was hot on Esme's heels in the running for best cook. The others had picked up on basic meal preparation just fine—after all, how hard was it to remember how to make a sandwich? Or fry an egg? It was only the slightly more complex meals they still needed guidance to complete.

Alice and Morgan walked into the store, snagging a shopping cart on their way. This wasn't the first time they'd been to a store, or even this store in particular—though, with the way the other shoppers stared, you'd think it was their first time in town. It always perplexed Morgan, the way some people didn't even try to hide their gazes when caught. They just kept staring. Harder, sometimes. But Morgan ignored it all today.

Today, she could pretend she didn't notice and simply enjoy time out with her sister. She decided it as she pushed the cart through the produce section, choosing not to look at the woman picking out apples across the aisle, taking her time bagging the fruit with her eyes planted firmly on the elusive Cullens. Alice slid bundles of asparagus into a plastic bag while Morgan leaned against the cart handle. It was hard to hide the humored pride glimmering in her eyes as she watched her sister examine each bundle before making a selection.

"Alright. Do you think two will be enough, or should we get three?" Alice asked, looking up from the vegetables.

Morgan hummed. "Maybe three? Just in case."

Nodding once, Alice reached again for a bundle of green. She stuffed it into the already stretched plastic bag and then placed it in the cart. There were some things they always kept on hand—basic things like milk, eggs, butter, cereal, any requested snacks. Though, they didn't have much food in the kitchen at any given time, considering only Morgan would be eating it. They'd learned early on just how fast food spoils. How wasteful over-shopping really was.

So, they grabbed a bag of potatoes before heading to the seafood department. Alice walked beside the cart, her hand absentmindedly resting atop the metal side. As they approached the cold displays, she couldn't keep it in any longer, turning abruptly to see Morgan at the front of the cart. "I'm sorry about the other day," she blurted, though quietly to avoid overhearing. "I didn't know that…that word…was offensive. I didn't know you struggled that way. If I did, I would've never-"

"Oh, Alice, it's okay. Really. I shouldn't have snapped like that. Like you said, you didn't know," Morgan shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Alice looked at her quizzically and Morgan couldn't help but sigh. She stepped away from the cart, closer to the displays, and started looking for the salmon. Maybe it would help distract her so she could get the words out? "I don't know…some things are just better kept to myself, I guess," Morgan answered her, haphazard and somewhat timid. She glanced up at her sister with a small smile. "I wish I could be as open as you are."

Alice's head tilted, her lips quirking up at the corner. "You used to be."

"Yeah, when I was eight. I also used to be able to eat other proteins and go twenty-four hours without bathing or covering myself in lotion. People change. They grow up."

"They get scared."

"And you're not?" Morgan questioned, as Alice came to stand beside her at the display. "Everything you see…it doesn't terrify you?"

"It did at first, of course. But it's who I am, Morgan. Why should I spend eternity scared of myself when I can accept it and be happy?" Alice posed the question as she peered through the glass of the display.

Morgan sighed. She made it sound so easy. Alice waved over a worker and requested salmon but, when she confirmed the amount with Morgan, Morgan simply nodded along—too lost in thought to truly comprehend the question. Then, a sharp vibration against her hip. She blinked hard and reached for her pocket instinctively, digging into the denim pouch for her cell phone. When she unearthed the device, it lit up with one new text message. Jacob.

She flipped open the phone and chose to view the message as Alice thanked the worker and placed the salmon into the cart. Alice's eyes lingered on Morgan, causing her to physically lag as she moved to push the cart herself, seeing the distraction. "What is it?" Alice asked, lighthearted despite her curiosity.

Following absentmindedly as Alice began to walk, pushing the cart from the seafood section into the crackers and chips aisle, Morgan replied, "It's just an update on the other kittens."

"That's nice of Billy to keep you in the loop," Alice commented. Any disapproval or further comment for any reason was kept to herself, resulting in the thinning of her lips in an expression as her eyes scanned the brands of snack crackers, looking for the right ones to serve as hors d'oeuvres.

Morgan's eyes flicked up from the phone, moving in a quick and straight path to Alice's face. "It's Jacob, actually. He offered, so…why not, right?"

"Ohh, I see."

It was then that Alice's mouth curved up in a knowing smile, though she clearly attempted to contain it but failed. However, Morgan's face paled as she stared at her clairvoyant sister. "Did you see something about Jacob?"

Alice turned to look at her, her expression slumping into confusion. "I've kept my promise that I wouldn't tell you about my visions of your future," she gently reminded, before pausing, leaning toward Morgan as she lowered her voice. "But if you truly want to know, I can tell you."

But Morgan shook her head, shoving her phone back into her pocket. "No, no—I don't need to know. I don't. I want to make decisions for myself, not because I know it's supposed to happen that way," she said, though mostly for her own sake, as she exhaled deeply.

Alice nodded once and returned to looking at cracker brands, but now Morgan's mind was truly racing. Had Alice truly seen something regarding her and Jacob? If she did, Edward surely knew by now. A small jolt of panic shot through her at the thought of Alice possibly telling Carlisle and Esme. Everyone would know but her. Was it even something positive? Maybe it was negative, and the others were only so jovial about a Christmas party because they knew it wouldn't matter?

The pair made quick work of Alice's list, only picking up a couple of extras Morgan thought of along the way. Although, the rest of the trip was much quieter, conversation shorter and more directed toward the topic of list items and ingredients. They picked out nice but generic stockings and some party invitations in the decorations section near the front of the store before checking out.

Then, they were on their way back home to prepare the invitations.