Chapter 26: Happier
Morgan awoke once again feeling more tired than she was when she had gone to bed. She knew she needed to get actually sleep sometimes, but other times she just wanted to spend time with her mother in the dream world that the woman had created. Especially last night. It had been Christmas Eve, the first without her mother and the first to take place somewhere other than her childhood home in Kentucky. So she used the night that spanned from Christmas Eve to Christmas Day to spend with her mother. When she awoke, she was covered in sweat. Morgan kicked off her sheets and put both feet on the floor, one with a soft touch, the other with a thump. She was still in the boot. Just two more days. Two more days until she could walk around unencumbered, and she was ready to get rid of the boot, but for now she was stuck with it.
Instead, Morgan half waddled half walked to her bathroom, took off her boot, leaving it outside the door, and levitated herself over to the shower. She got herself clean and when she got out, she decided she was going to blow-dry her hair. Twenty some-odd minutes later, Morgan brushed her teeth and put on some mascara before she levitated herself and her boot over to her closet and dresser. Since it was Christmas day, she put on a slightly oversized, red and white, Christmas sweater that just barely went an inch past her bottom and a pair of black leggings. She put on her fuzzy Christmas socks that had a red and white pattern and Green Christmas trees over the outside ankles. Morgan got her boot back on her right foot and put her combat boot on the left.
Once she was all ready to go, Morgan grabbed two Christmas presents. One wrapped in red paper and one wrapped in green. They were both around the same size boxes, but one was much heavier. When she got out into the main room, Morgan stopped dead in her tracks. There was a rather large Christmas tree, all decorated and twinkling with different colored lights in the middle of the room with a few presents underneath. At the table sat Sam, who was wearing a pair of reindeer antlers. Next to him was some redhead woman with a green Santa hat. Then, there was Castiel, messing with the reindeer antlers on his head. He was repeatedly pressing a button on the headband that made the little Christmas lights on them turn on and off over and over again. Next to Castiel, drinking what looked like eggnog out of a mug, was some guy with a balding head and an all black suit. That man was wearing a green and red striped elf hat. The best part about the room was her dad, wearing an ugly christmas sweater, a santa hat. What made him the best part of the room was the fact that he was trying to put reindeer antlers on the dog, Zoe. Morgan was on the verge of laughter.
"What's all this?" Morgan asked. Dean looked up, abandoning his antler mission, and smiled.
"I know this is your first Christmas without an important family member so we thought we'd bring in some family of our own," Dean explained. Morgan's lips stretched into an excited smile as she realized that he was doing all of this for her.
"I'm honored you consider me family but I'm honestly quite shocked," the man in the black suit stated in an english accent that caught morgan of guard. Dean gave him a look.
"Okay no, you dropped in unannounced and decided to stay, you're still here because you made a case with a really nice bottle of bourbon," Dean told him. The man put his hands up in surrender before taking another sip of his eggnog.
"Well, alright. Who're the two strangers then?" Morgan asked. The redhead stood up and flashed a big smile.
"I'm Charlie, Sam and Dean's tech expert slash the great Queen of Moondoor," She laughed at the end but the whole introductory statement radiated confidence.
"You know a queen?" Morgan looked to Sam with an eyebrow raised. He chuckled before explaining.
"Charlie is an avid L.A.R. that somehow managed to become the Queen of their community for a while," Sam explained. Morgan took a second to remember what L.A.R. was and then she moved on to the english guy.
"Alright then, who is high and mighty over here?" Morgan asked, looking right at the englishman. He raised an eyebrow.
"I, little winchester, am the King of Hell. Nothing high and mighty about it," He approached her trying to be intimidating. Morgan walked right up to him.
Well King of Hell or not, you're in my house, She projected into everyone's minds as blood dripped down from her nose. Cross me, and I will make it feel like hell on earth. She told him, and it reverberated into everyone else's minds. Dean stood up and put a hand on her shoulder, handing her a napkin from his pocket.
"Okay wait since when do you carry napkins in your pockets?" Morgan asked. Dean laughed.
"Ever since you started getting nose bleeds when you decide to get threatening. Now knock it off, it's Christmas," Dean told her, messing with her hair for a moment before walking to the table, grabbing a red santa hat and putting it on her. She rolled her eyes.
"Alright, fine. No powers, just Christmas cheer. Got it," Morgan surrendered. She walked over to the Christmas tree, placing the two presents for her Dad and Sam under the tree before she sat down next to Charlie with her own glass of eggnog. Judging by the smell of it, Dean must've been cooking breakfast for all of them. Sam handed her a cup of coffee that was already fixed up the way she liked it, with a little bit of hazelnut creamer and three splenda.
Morgan had a weird feeling inside. It was something she never really felt. It had always been just her and her mom on Christmas. Maybe Thanksgiving or Halloween or New Years they would be with her work friends and their families, but this year she was with a family. It way be a makeshift family, one of more than humans, a mismatched family that seemed to feel like it was worth so much more to her than she had expected. She was talking to Charlie about comic book superheroes and how much she was loving the Deadpool comic of him killing the resurrected presidents all in order aside from Abraham Lincoln because he was running a presidents v presidents boxing ring or something weird like that. Morgan was talking to Castiel about his newfound friend, Kevin the orange tabby that he visits and feeds cat treats when he can. Morgan loved how Castiel was so in love with the little things that Earth-bound life had to offer. She even talked to Crowley. But that was a more interesting conversation.
"So, you're the King of Hell?" she asked as she took a sip of maybe his third glass of eggnog. He seemed to be obsessed with the holiday drink.
"That, I am, little squirrel," He told her. Morgan cocked her head in confusion at the petname.
"Little Squirrel?" She questioned. He raised an eyebrow.
"The boys must not have gone into too much detail about me to you. I have given them nicknames because Sam and Dean are too boring to use sometimes and I like to think we're friends. Sam is moose, Dean is squirrel. You are Dean's kid, ergo little squirrel… Why am I explaining myself to you? I don't have to explain myself to some twelve year old," Crowley said to her in a matter-of-fact fashion.
"Don't have to be rude about it. Should've known you would be. You're not the first demon I've encountered. But you're only the second that I haven't killed yet-" Morgan was going to try to intimidate him, but he cut her off.
"How many demons have you killed?" He asked in a deadpan.
"Two the night I met my dad and Sam, the third got away, Four the night after I went to my homecoming dance, and one on halloween," She told him. Crowley had a look in his eyes.
"Interesting. I would've heard about it if a twelve year old-"
"I'm fourteen."
"I wouldnt've heard about it if a fourteen year old girl was killing my demons, which means they aren't demons allegiant to me," He told her, setting his eggnog down as he began to slip into deep thought.
"Which means that you probably have a usurper on your hands," Morgan told him. She oddly liked the sound of usurpers in her own mind. She had read Game of Thrones enough to know that Robert Baratheon was far less dangerous than Aerys II Targaryen. Although there were plenty of other usurpers in Game of Thrones that were far more terrifying to occur.
"Unfortunately, little squirrel, that seems to be the case. Sneaky bastards. I hadn't even had an inkling of betrayal in my court," Crowley muttered. Morgan laughed.
"Don't tell my dad but I'd be happy to help out. Considering said sneaky bastards tried to kidnap me and one of them tried to kill me. So next time you get an inkling, you know where to find me," Morgan said. Crowley raised an eyebrow at her newfound behavior.
"You're willing to work with the devil?" He whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
"As long as I don't have to make any soul stealing deals or kill any innocent people," She told him.
"What about demons inhabiting people?" The King of Hell questioned.
"Oh, I'm totally fine with killing Demons. The people they're inhabiting are like failing skydivers over the ocean, often dead before they hit the water," The psychic teenager explained to him. He nodded, concealing his piqued interest in this teenage girl who seems to have a lot more power than she lets on.
"So, from what I'm hearing about you is that you can move things with your mind? I little mental communication like from earlier?" He asked. She tilted her head from side to side a bit.
"Eh, I've been told that this is only the beginning of my abilities but yeah, I can even move people. I like to think of it as puppeteering. I can also move myself. When my dad found out what I could do he walked into my room while I was on the ceiling and I did the same exact thing to show Sam what I could do. I've been learning how to hear people's thoughts but it's just as hard to do as communicating with them. Sometimes it happens on accident when I'm not trying to…" Morgan thought of one other thing that she wasn't sure she wanted to tell anyone, but if she was going to possibly work with Crowley, he probably needed to know the extent of her abilities. "And there's one other thing."
"And that is?" He asked, his english accent making him sound a bit more impatient for the answer than he already was.
"I've been practicing communing with the dead. It's easiest when I'm sleeping, like creating a reality where I can bring the other soul to talk to, but I've been trying to do it while I'm awake and I'm getting closer. I've been doing a lot of reading, and that might mean I might be capable of other sorts of visions and possibly necromancy," She told him in a whisper. Crowley laughed.
"Well, I'll keep your little secret, as it seems you don't want anyone else to know about your newest gift. I must tell you though, it is a gift. My mother could only dream of doing the things you do without using her magic. My mother is a 300 year old natural born witch. Even with her magic she can't some of the things that you do," He told her, almost in a reassuring manner. Morgan was realizing that she sounded somewhat scared of what she can do.
"Thanks," She smiled before sipping her cup of coffee as her dad finally came in with a huge tray of food. He finally finished cooking breakfast. Morgan shifted away from Crowley, sitting forward in her street as her father placed a plate in front of her. She drank a bit more of her coffee before she started digging into the french toast on her plate.
It wasn't long before they were opening presents under the tree. Morgan had switched from coffee to hot chocolate, careful to lick the whipped cream on top from her upper lip so she wouldn't have a little mustache. Her dad and Sam were handing everyone a gift from them. Everyone seemed to be getting something that was perfectly tailored to their personality. Morgan was afraid to open hers. She sat there, with her slightly heavy but not too big present with red wrapping paper with little Christmas trees all over it. She looked up from the present and saw Sam and Dean opening her presents to them. A smile crept across her face as Dean saw his Ultimate Pie Cookbook. Sam laughed as he saw his custom long sleeve. It was black, dri-fit, and read the words, Run Like Hellhounds Are After You with small wolf howling on it. She thought it was fitting considering Sam was the runner of the family. Morgan liked to run too, and was going to start running with Sam before she ended up breaking her leg. She looked down at her own box and started opening it. She the paper was all off, she realized it was an old leather bound book with the last name Hughes engraved into it with a shiny metallic substance.
Morgan opened the book and on the first page, it was blank except for a series of sixteen names. At the bottom, was her grandmother's name and her mother's name and enough space for her own. As Morgan continued turning the pages, she realized it was a sort of grimoire or at the very least a journal of helpful information. The second page read a short passage.
Those who hold this book are welcome to it's knowledge and it add their own for the next to hold it. This book is only to be passed down through the MacLeod Bloodline.
Morgan went through the names. They surnames began with MacLeod, but as they went on, the names changed as the previous owners married and had children of their new last name. In was interesting seeing the names of the men and women before her. As she flipped through the pages, Morgan found a photo of her mom as a kid with a woman that Morgan had recognized as her own grandmother who had passed away before she was born. There was even another picture of her mom with her dad when they were teenagers, laying in a field with the camera turned around above them. Morgan's mother had taken the picture. They looked so young. When Morgan turned the page over, she realized it was her father's photo. The back was dated and marked with the words, Michelle and I in Ringgold, Georgia, Werewolf case. But then she saw that there was a bit more in another color pen. The last time I saw her.
"Where did you find this?" Morgan asked her father as she could feel her eyes welling up with tears.
"I tracked down where your grandmother lived. It seems all of her stuff was in a storage room after she died. Your mom had told me about the book before, and I thought it would be best that I found it for you, since it's supposed to be passed down and all," Her dad told her. Morgan got up from her seat, and hobbled over to him with her boot and gave him a hug.
"Thanks," She whispered.
"Merry Christmas, Morgan."