Cheesecake 27 & Sea Salt 7
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Cheesecake 27 (The sweeter the wine the harder to make the break - My Treat: Morgan recovering post-Chris) & Sea Salt 7 (ripple)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel
Word Count: 655
Rating: PG
Summary: Morgan’s having a hard time coping with recent events.
Notes: This deals with situations mentioned here, including Chris. So I’ve dithered about new flavors for 3 weeks (I had four spots open until now) but finally decided on these two and Butter Rum for now :) Cheesecake is a My Treat from Marina that I’m excited to finally tackle!
The screaming started right on cue and, also as usual, did not last very long. The three people sitting at the kitchen table glanced as one towards the hallway where it had emanated from. Russ let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back,” he said, wearily pushing himself back from the table.
“No,” Sorin said with a quick shake of his head. “I’ll go this morning.”
“Is Morgan ever gonna stop screaming when she wakes up?” Dean asked around a mouthful of toast.
“Are you sure?” Russ asked, ignoring the ten-year-old for a second, considering they had only been back three days. Sorin had, to this point, respectfully kept his distance from Morgan, figuring she had enough to deal with without adding the fact he had not died to the mix.
“Yes.”
Sorin knocked once and then let himself in. Morgan did not even acknowledge his presence, standing by the window, fingers curled white over the sill, shoulders hunched. “Morgan,” he said quietly.
She jerked as if struck, tightening her grip on the sill.
“You can’t hide in here forever.” When she did not respond, he stepped over and gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Morgan, I know something about psychopaths and tough times. What you’re doing right now, shutting yourself up, keeping it bottled inside, is not good for you and you’re either going to collapse or explode pretty soon.”
She closed her eyes, finally letting go of her death grip with one hand to rub at the bandage still on her forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Chris is never going to leave me alone.”
“Christopher Malone is dead, Morgan,” Sorin said, grabbing her hand and gently moving it away from the still healing cut on her forehead. “Russ killed him. We all saw it.”
“Not in my head,” she said miserably, shoulders somehow hunching more.
He let go of her hand to touch her forehead with the back of his fingers. “Oh damnit, Morgan, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me the fever had come back?”
“Didn’t want to bother you,” she muttered, looking away.
Now Sorin grabbed her shoulders and whipped her around. Morgan stared at him through red-rimmed, worried eyes. “Colin insists you’re not stupid so prove it,” he said sternly. “I know things are tough right now, but the worst thing you could do is shut down.” He paused. “Give us a chance to help.”
“I’m not sure I know how to.”
“Let yourself go,” Sorin said quietly.
She automatically tensed, squeezing her eyes shut. “How can I when I have Chris in my head?”
He hesitated and then reached out and pulled her into a hug. After a moment, she sagged against him, burying her face in his shoulder. As Sorin gently patted her back, he felt her shoulders hitch for the first time as the tears finally started to flow. Murmuring calming nonsense, like he used to when Dean had been smaller, Sorin just held the young woman.
Morgan stepped back, wiping at her eyes. “’m sorry,” she mumbled, also swiping halfheartedly at his wet shoulder.
“Don’t be. We’re here for you, Morgan.”
He was rewarded with a faint smile. “I appreciate it.”
Sorin returned it. “It will take time, but you can get him out of your head, I promise. In the meantime, let’s focus on bringing that fever down. Back into bed with you.”
She did as ordered meekly, curling up as he pulled the blankets up. “Sorin?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, and I really am glad you’re alive.”
He laughed. “That has to be the fever talking.”
Her eyelids were already drooping. “Not,” she said. “Am glad. You’re not crazy evil.”
“Does that mean I’m crazy or evil, just not both?”
“Don’t mock me when I’m sick,” she muttered but there was another flicker of a smile.
“Sleep well, Morgan.” He patted her on the shoulder, amused, and let himself out of the room.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Cheesecake 27 (The sweeter the wine the harder to make the break - My Treat: Morgan recovering post-Chris) & Sea Salt 7 (ripple)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel
Word Count: 655
Rating: PG
Summary: Morgan’s having a hard time coping with recent events.
Notes: This deals with situations mentioned here, including Chris. So I’ve dithered about new flavors for 3 weeks (I had four spots open until now) but finally decided on these two and Butter Rum for now :) Cheesecake is a My Treat from Marina that I’m excited to finally tackle!
The screaming started right on cue and, also as usual, did not last very long. The three people sitting at the kitchen table glanced as one towards the hallway where it had emanated from. Russ let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back,” he said, wearily pushing himself back from the table.
“No,” Sorin said with a quick shake of his head. “I’ll go this morning.”
“Is Morgan ever gonna stop screaming when she wakes up?” Dean asked around a mouthful of toast.
“Are you sure?” Russ asked, ignoring the ten-year-old for a second, considering they had only been back three days. Sorin had, to this point, respectfully kept his distance from Morgan, figuring she had enough to deal with without adding the fact he had not died to the mix.
“Yes.”
Sorin knocked once and then let himself in. Morgan did not even acknowledge his presence, standing by the window, fingers curled white over the sill, shoulders hunched. “Morgan,” he said quietly.
She jerked as if struck, tightening her grip on the sill.
“You can’t hide in here forever.” When she did not respond, he stepped over and gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Morgan, I know something about psychopaths and tough times. What you’re doing right now, shutting yourself up, keeping it bottled inside, is not good for you and you’re either going to collapse or explode pretty soon.”
She closed her eyes, finally letting go of her death grip with one hand to rub at the bandage still on her forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Chris is never going to leave me alone.”
“Christopher Malone is dead, Morgan,” Sorin said, grabbing her hand and gently moving it away from the still healing cut on her forehead. “Russ killed him. We all saw it.”
“Not in my head,” she said miserably, shoulders somehow hunching more.
He let go of her hand to touch her forehead with the back of his fingers. “Oh damnit, Morgan, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me the fever had come back?”
“Didn’t want to bother you,” she muttered, looking away.
Now Sorin grabbed her shoulders and whipped her around. Morgan stared at him through red-rimmed, worried eyes. “Colin insists you’re not stupid so prove it,” he said sternly. “I know things are tough right now, but the worst thing you could do is shut down.” He paused. “Give us a chance to help.”
“I’m not sure I know how to.”
“Let yourself go,” Sorin said quietly.
She automatically tensed, squeezing her eyes shut. “How can I when I have Chris in my head?”
He hesitated and then reached out and pulled her into a hug. After a moment, she sagged against him, burying her face in his shoulder. As Sorin gently patted her back, he felt her shoulders hitch for the first time as the tears finally started to flow. Murmuring calming nonsense, like he used to when Dean had been smaller, Sorin just held the young woman.
Morgan stepped back, wiping at her eyes. “’m sorry,” she mumbled, also swiping halfheartedly at his wet shoulder.
“Don’t be. We’re here for you, Morgan.”
He was rewarded with a faint smile. “I appreciate it.”
Sorin returned it. “It will take time, but you can get him out of your head, I promise. In the meantime, let’s focus on bringing that fever down. Back into bed with you.”
She did as ordered meekly, curling up as he pulled the blankets up. “Sorin?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, and I really am glad you’re alive.”
He laughed. “That has to be the fever talking.”
Her eyelids were already drooping. “Not,” she said. “Am glad. You’re not crazy evil.”
“Does that mean I’m crazy or evil, just not both?”
“Don’t mock me when I’m sick,” she muttered but there was another flicker of a smile.
“Sleep well, Morgan.” He patted her on the shoulder, amused, and let himself out of the room.