Chapter Two

The Girl with the Wings

November 18th

Staying up late last night to finish a project that wasn't even due until next week, had definitely been a bad idea, Morgan decided the moment her alarm clock went off. Her overwhelming want to stay in bed for just a little bit longer, combined with the knowledge that she didn't have the time for that, almost made her want to cry.

The blonde considered calling in sick, but she'd already done that once this week, and twice the week before, and three times the week before that..

Her mother thought she was frail, but the truth was that sometimes, Morgan just couldn't face the day. She was too exhausted, and so tired of spending every single day terrified that someone would finally discover the monstrosities sticking out of her back. It was a miracle that she'd been able to hide them this long, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they grew too large to hide underneath a big sweater, a scarf, and her mane of hair. She'd considered removing them herself. Had even held a knife to them once, but she'd been too afraid of the pain and perhaps bleeding out and being unable to hide it to actually follow through with the idea.

Her cat, Perseus (Percy for short)– a name she could only excuse by explaining that she'd had a serious Percy Jackson and the Olympians obsession back when she'd gotten the cat (And, hello, the cat was midnight black with a pair of sea green eyes it was perfect) – jumped up on her bed and sat in her hair, licking its right paw casually. Morgan scratched him briefly behind his ear before pushing him off of her hair. Knowing that she had to, Morgan sat up in bed and swung her legs over the edge, rubbing her face and running her hands through her hair to wake herself up fully. Her mother had, as usual, been on a night shift at work and was fast asleep right now, meaning that Morgan wouldn't have to worry about her mother seeing her wings.

The thought comforted her somewhat, as it meant an hour less of constant worrying. She could even blow dry her feathers without her mother asking why she was taking her so long to dry her hair and then raise suspicion.

Unfortunately, an hour passed by quickly, and before she knew it, she was already out the door and headed for the nearest bus stop, just like every other morning.

"I need some change in my life.." she grumbled to herself as she stuck her keys into her jean pocket.

A big change. Sometimes, Morgan felt like she was about to explode. She couldn't go on every day like this, trying to blend in with all the normal, wing-less people. It wouldn't last forever.

At the same time, she wasn't fond of the alternative. Morgan wasn't stupid. If she was discovered, chances were that she'd spend the rest of her life as a lab rat, scientists poking and prodding at her day in and day out. And she hated needles.

Or maybe I'll just join a circus or something. I bet I'd fit in just fine there. Morgan had jokingly thought that joining the circus might've been her best shot countless times. Obviously, she knew it would only be a matter of time before someone would find her there too, and she'd still end up in a lab somewhere either way.

So all she could do was continue like she always did. Isolate herself as much as possible. Never talk to anyone. Neither get grades that were too good or too bad to draw any attention to her. By now, Morgan had mastered the art of being seemingly uninteresting and appearing aggressively average.

Her day passed as most did. She arrived early and sat in the last row in class so no one would noticed the weird way her green sweater bulged in the back when she sat down. She ate her lunch, standing in some dark corner close to the bathrooms on the second floor. One third year student had bumped into her from behind and given her a weird look before walking off. Morgan's heart had climbed into her throat and pumped furiously for ten minutes straight afterwards.

Other than that single incident, it had been a pretty okay day. They'd gotten a biology test back and she'd scored a hundred on it. Her teacher had talked to her about moving her up into a more advanced biology class, which Morgan couldn't wait to tell her mother, as she knew her otherwise average grades disappointed her a bit.

It was true that Morgan always made sure to never do her best on her school work, but she couldn't help it in biology. She had a knack for it, something her mother said she'd gotten from her father. And as stupid as it sounded, she felt closer to him whenever she did her biology homework. He'd been a genius in biology, and Morgan, even though she hadn't seen the man in eight years, felt, or hoped, that she was making him proud by getting good grades in the subject. A much bigger part of her told her that she shouldn't give a shit what he thought. She hadn't heard a thing from the man since she was ten years old, he obviously didn't care. And neither should she.

A weary sigh left her lips as she finally rounded the corner of her street and spotted the apartment building she lived in. Almost home. Almost safe. As long as she lied about having a lot of homework and barricaded herself in her room so her mother wouldn't see her, that is. She was never really safe.

"Hey mom," she called out into the apartment in an attempt to locate her mother.

"Hi sweetie." Her mother poked her head out the door that connected the hallway to their small kitchen, "How was school?"

Morgan entered the kitchen and jumped up onto the kitchen counter, where her mother was busy cooking their dinner. Morgan had gotten home a bit late because she'd stopped by the library so it was almost dinner time already. She shrugged her shoulders. "Same old, same old."

Her mother tutted at her and attempted to push her off the counter. "How many times have I told you to not sit on my tables? Honestly girl, you'd think I raised you better."

Morgan smirked and hopped down, leaning against the counter instead. "Well, I've got school work to finish. Call me when dinner's ready." She hefted her school bag off the floor and walked as fast towards her room as she could without it seeming suspicious.

Once the door was shut behind her, she heaved a relieved sigh and leaned against it, finally feeling completely at ease for the first time since she'd left the apartment that morning.

She ate dinner with her mother half an hour later, eating her small serving as slow as she could so her mother wouldn't notice how little she was eating.

Once her wings had first started growing, Morgan had quickly realized that the more she ate, the faster they grew – like a teenage boy experiencing a growth spurt – so she'd started eating less and less to slow their progress. Not the healthiest solution, but she had been young and desperate, and now it had become a habit. The result was a pair of sad and weak wings, that she wasn't even sure could fly.

Some days she wondered what her wings would look like if she started eating more than just enough to get by with. How large they would grow. If she could fly with them. She usually pushed the thought away as fast as she could, as she liked to pretend that she had absolutely no desire to fly with her wings, and that she hated them too much to attempt it.

"Well." Her mother stood up, stretched and then began putting the dishes into the dishwasher. "I think I'll be going to bed soon. I've got an early morning shift tomorrow."

"Alright. I'll be in my room. I've got homework anyway."

Morgan stood too and helped her mother, and with their combined effort the dishes were dealt with in a matter of minutes.

Morgan retreated to her room and sat and listened to the sounds of her mother getting to bed, waiting for the moment where she could take off her outer layer and all the belts that tied her wings to her body, and let them be free for the rest of the night. That was the time of day she savored the most. Tying her wings to her body with belts wasn't always without pain, and after a whole day of moving them as little as possible, they were stiff and uncomfortable.

Fifteen minutes after she had entered her room, her mother had settled down in her own bed and had gone quiet. The small apartment they lived in carried sound like nothing else, and Morgan could always hear exactly when her mother had gone to bed.

She waited ten more minutes, and then the ache in her wings made her slip off her sweater, revealing a black tank top underneath. She took that off too, and started undoing the belts around her stomach, waist, collarbone, and hips.

Once done, she dug out one of the tank tops she'd cut open in the back to allow her wings movement. Morgan settled in her chair in front of her desk again, the wings flopping lazily over the back of the chair, fluttering and stretching in delight at being freed.

Percy jumped up onto her chair and climbed onto her shoulder, pawing at her wings in curiosity. She massaged her temples slowly, feeling a big headache coming.

Morgan sat there for two hours. She got a bit of homework done, but mostly she just wasted away time on the internet because she was unwilling to go to bed earlier than ten or eleven.

In hindsight, it had been a stupid thing to do, but she firmly believed that her mother was asleep, so she plugged in her headphones and listened to music as she sat there.

That was why she didn't her the footsteps in her mother's room, or the creaking door in the hallway. She didn't even notice her own door opening, but she heard her mother's voice.

"Morgan, can you-" Her mother froze midsentence as she got a good look at her daughter, who was sitting panicked and wide-eyed in her chair.

"Mom!" Morgan cried and instinctively folded her wings against her back, hoping against hope that her mother hadn't seen them.

She knew she had when her mother started screaming.

"What is that!" Her mother shouted and pointed, panicked, at Morgan's back.

Morgan stood and took a step closer to her mother, hoping to calm her down. She knew she'd been found out, so she unfolded her wings and let them flop sadly against her back. "Mom, I can expla-"

"Don't come near me!" Her mother's words stung more than Morgan had ever imagined they could, and seeing the way Abigail ran away from her and locked herself in their bathroom felt like a literal slap to the face.

Morgan panicked completely after that. She grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on, and then she ran. She left the apartment, and even though it was late at night, she ran as fast as she could down the streets, not caring how dangerous Gotham was at night, not caring that she'd forgotten her phone and that she wasn't wearing shoes in November.

She just needed to get away. Away from her mother, away from that apartment, away from her life.

I guess now's the time for me to join that circus, she thought bitterly as her legs brought her down another street and then turned the corner into a small alleyway. Here, she collapsed from exhaustion and sat against the wall, sniffling quietly to herself. She felt more alone than she'd ever felt before.

If she'd known how her days was going to pan out, she probably would've called in sick that morning.

She sat in that alley in dead silence for half an hour when something new happened.

The streetlamp in front of the small alley was broken, leaving the place in relative darkness. Morgan couldn't see much, which made her more hear and sense rather than see the presence of someone else in the alley.

She sniffled once, wiping her nose on her sleeve, and then she stood up and looked around. "Who's there?"

She'd hoped to sound brave, but her voice was raw from crying, and she shook with fear.

Morgan gasped loudly and took an instinctive step back when the person stepped out of the shadows. She suddenly understood why she hadn't seen the person before. It was Batman.

While she was busy staring at the superhero in front of her, she heard someone else land behind her too.

She glanced behind her and spotted Nightwing crouching in the opening of the alley. He stood and walked further in.

Pressing herself to the wall behind her so she could face the both of them, Morgan felt an unexpected annoyance flare up in her. Her night had been far too sucky already to deal with a pair of spandex-clad heroes.

"I'm not a criminal or a victim, so you can leave." She said, crossing her arms defensively, a glare on her face.

"We know." Nightwing said. Morgan had halfway expected neither of them to talk. He sounded younger than she'd expected. Like he was her age.

"We're here to talk to you about something else." Nightwing went on.

Morgan felt herself stiffen, somehow knowing what they were talking about. Her blood ran cold in her veins, one thought in her mind.

How did they know?

"You're here to talk about my wings, aren't you?"

This chapter was kind of the second part of the prologue so that's why it's pretty short and also why I'm posting it already. (That's also why the chapters names are so similar)

Usually I only update in the weekends.

Fun Fact: Her mentioned obsession with the PJO books is kind of inspired by my own. I was in love with the series a year back but I was pretty disappointed by House of Hades and I'm not as die heard a fan anymore.