Chapter 15: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

Morgan looked upon the dark, run down room as the night poured through the windows like a mixture of black ink and moonlight. There were old fissures running across the walls and the ceiling like an old house. The wood floors were warped but still holding. It was an empty room, until it wasn't. There was a girl in the middle of the room with long chestnut hair, perfectly straightened. Her face was hidden under the brim of a witch's hat. It was one of the classic hats that come with a costume for halloween. Her skin was lightly tanned with freckles everywhere. She seemed so familiar, her 5'1 stature, slightly slouched as her head looked at the ground. There was a gust of wind, coming through the open windows, making the hat sway slightly in the breeze as her hair blew about. The girl looked up and Morgan realized she was looking at herself. She was spectating herself. Morgan saw the look of fear on her own face as she realized that among the freckles on her body, there was blood, spattered all over her. It was in her hair, her black witch's dress that's fabric matched the hat, it was all over her skin, and it was all under her fingernails. At her feet, Morgan saw her familiar black combat boots, which were covered in a mix of blood and mud. It was in that moment, that Morgan was no longer the spectator. Out of nowhere, something crept out of the shadows and dragged her through the door as she screamed and clawed at the wood. Her hands bled as they repeatedly scraped against the wood.

"Help me!" Morgan screamed as she watched herself grow smaller and smaller as she was dragged into the darkness. The feeling of the large hands dragging her by her ankles changed as the grip traveled up her body. They grabbed her ankles, then her knees, her hips, her hands, her elbows as her chest was lifted from the ground, then she was being pulled backward by her hair. This time, the dream didn't stop. She was turned over and grabbed by the neck. All she could look at was his black eyes and how they were burning a hole through her mind. Her whole body felt like it was on fire when his chilling voice rolled out of his cold lips before the demon's laughter rang in her ears.

"He's coming."

Morgan was suffocating. She was coughing and sputtering as the hand grew tighter around her neck. The worst part was when he let go of her, yet she was still suspended in the air with her throat closed, unable breathe. It felt like she was growing cold, her veins coming closer to the surface of her skin as they flowed with black like ink being pumped out of her racing heart beat.

"Morgan!" She could hear, but she couldn't see anyone. She could feel the black blood pouring out of her mouth as she sputtered.

"Morgan!" She heard it again. It sounded so familiar.

"Morgan!" This time she opened her eyes and saw herself floating above her bed.

The words curled out of her mouth in a voice that was not her own stating, "He's coming." She dropped out of the air, bounced off of her bed and hit the floor all, all while her dog barked and barked at her. The teenager keeled over and started coughing, gasping for air.

"Hey, hey, hey, what happened?" Her father tried to console her. Morgan was still trying to catch her breath.

"Bad… dream… demon…" she gasped as she found her hand tight around the anti possession charm that her mother had given her.

"Morgan, you're drenched in sweat," Dean pointed out. Morgan looked at herself and noticed that she had sweat right through her clothes. He touched her arm and she gasped, yanking her arm away. Out of confusion, she touched her arm and the skin felt so sore. She ran her hands over the rest of her body She touched her neck and immediately yanked her hand away. Her neck hurt the most.

"Dad, don't freak out, but I'm gonna turn on the lights," She told him as she looked at the lightswitch and used her power to turn it on. Morgan screamed as she saw herself. She was covered in bruises and the worst part was that they were all hand prints.

"What the hell?" Her dad exclaimed as he checked her skin.

"I look like a freak!" Morgan yelled, and then she almost went to grab her neck because it hurt but then stopped herself because it would hurt more. "And it hurts!" But then out of nowhere a dark haired man in a suit and a trench coat appeared out of thin air, causing Morgan to scream. "What the hell is that?!"

"Morgan, Castiel. Cas, my daughter Morgan," Dean introduced them. Castiel walked towards Morgan with this look on his face that slightly unnerved her. It was like the sight of all her bare patches of skin piqued his interest. She scooted back on the floor as he grew closer.

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed as she crawled away from him as fast as she possibly could. The yelling hurt her throat, causing her to fall into a coughing fit. She felt something warm touch her hand. She looked in her palm and saw the spatter of blood that came from her throat.

"Hey, hey, hey. Morgan, he's a friend," Her father calmed her down. Castiel just stood there, analyzing the situation with a pair of striking, cobalt blue eyes. Morgan only had one question at the forefront of her mid.

"What are you?" She asked. Castiel's head tilted. She was beginning to see that he was a very animated person.

"I am an angel of the Lord," he stated. Morgan was caught off guard. She had expected an angel to be different. Maybe wearing all white and looking more clean shaven? Castiel wore a trench coat, a tie that matched his eyes, and he had a five o'clock shadow that made him seem like he'd been through some rough stuff.

"Okay then…" Morgan was still a bit skeptical about the man.

"Dean, she doesn't like me. Should I go?" Castiel seemed awkward, like he was trying a little too hard to assume the role of human, but couldn't quite get it. Morgan felt so uncomfortable and nervous that she almost wanted him to leave.

"No, Cas. I called for you because I need you to heal my kid, and I wanted to know if you knew anything about demons contacting people from beyond wards and protection spells and hex bags? Cause I'd really like to know," Dean told the angel. "Also, it's about time you two met anyway."

"Fine," Cas said. Morgan froze, holding absolutely still as the angel placed two fingers on her forehead. She felt like her insides were burning, but only for a moment, as all of the pain and soreness from her damaged skin went away.

"Dad, where's Sam?" Morgan asked.

"Sammy had to leave a couple of hours ago to help a couple hunters with a case," He explained as she angel offered Morgan a hand. She took it and stood up with him.

"Dean, most upper level demons can manipulate the dreams of their victims despite the barriers between them, like Lucifer and Sam. What happened here, where the dream affected her body… You told me she is psychic, yes?" Both Dean and Morgan nodded. "The most likely scenario is that she was so entrapped and controlled by her own fear in the dream that her power mimicked the action in the dream and brought its effects into reality."

"But what about the voice?" Her father asked, having heard the demon speak through her. There was a long pause

"I believe Morgan is manifesting more abilities than just telekinesis. Her growing level of psychic abilities, her raw power, could be mixing with the demon's attempts at either frightening her or drawing her out," Castiel explained. Morgan groaned.

"Could I just give up my abilities? Like is there a way to get rid of them?" Morgan asked, wringing her hands out. She looked like she was shaking with stress, and Castiel must've noticed because he attempted to give her a sympathetic look but just looked like a lost puppy with pursed lips.

"It's not that simple. And even if you just stopped using your abilities all together, it would be extremely painful. All of that pent up energy and a demon trying to manipulate you would not be a good mix. You could become volatile or a danger to yourself and others," Castiel elaborated. Morgan sighed. She felt hopeless. She had this strong ability and apparently a few others and when they finally posed a threat, they would pose an even greater threat if she chose not to use them. It was a conundrum that she didn't want to have to solve. Only a few months ago she had a normal life and just a few weeks ago she was a plain old child of a hunter. Now she was somehow a psychic and none of it made sense.

"Castiel," Morgan went to get his attention. "Do you know why I'm a psychic?" the angel nodded and shrugged at the same time.

"It's a bit unclear, but it seems you descend from a long line of psychics, wiccans, and witches on your mother's side. The angels did know that your grandmother met your grandfather when he went hunting for a local witch and found her, the town psychic. What makes you that much stronger, is not only your maternal lineage, but your mother's union with your father. Now that was some tricky business. I mean what are the odds of those two specific bloodlines crossing? It's fascinat-" Morgan interrupted Castiel.

"Wait… What makes my dad so special?" She asked. Dean rubbed the back of his head, like this wasn't something he was quite proud of.

"Well, among things that made me special as a human during me tenure as a hunter, Sammy's and my bloodline make us strong in a complicated way. I, for example, am Michael's vessel…" Dean tried to explain. The words felt awkward in his mouth.

"What Dean is trying to say," Castiel cut back in, "is that he is the one true vessel of the Archangel Michael. So that mix with your mother is what makes you a powerful psychic." Morgan was at a loss for words. It almost made her glad she had a question that didn't really have anything to do with why her conception was so magical.

"What about Sam? You said he's like you too," she inquired. Dean looked at Castiel like he didn't want the angel to say anything, but it was too late. Like trying to turn off a speaker when the knob is broken.

"Sam is Lucifer's one true vessel," he told her outright. She froze.

"So like… you guys could be possessed by them at any moment?"

"No," Dean shook his head. "Been there, done that, they're trapped in Lucifer's cage in hell with Sam's and my half brother Adam."

"You have a half brother?"

"Out of all of that, my half brother is what interests you? It's a long story." Dean got up from the floor and offered his hand to his daughter. She took it and stood up with him. Now Castiel was no longer awkwardly standing up all by himself.

"This is a lot to take in," Morgan sighed.

"Maybe it would be easier to read about it? Chu-" Dean elbowed Castiel in the side. Stopping him from finishing his statement. Morgan raised an eyebrow, but let it go after receiving a glare from her father that screamed, Don't you dare ask! It's not important!

"So if my powers are growing, does that mean I'm getting more? Like, different from being telekinetic?" She asked, excitement and dread both pouring into her voice at once.

"I believe the ability developing right now is a form of precognition. A bit like Sam's, but linked more towards the demon or even self preservation," Castiel told her.

"Wait, does Sam have visions?" Morgan questioned, absolutely blindsided by the idea. Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.