A New Normal || Morgan

[Maddox Barlowe]

August 25, 1974,
Three in the Afternoon,
Home of the deceased, Caroline Dobbs

The emptiness of the house greeted him at the door. He'd been in and out of the place a few times since the news broke, but it never got any easier. The stillness that clung to the walls and permeated the rooms haunted him. They screamed of words left unsaid, words he'd now never be able to say.

The first time they'd parted, it had been on what he'd thought were amicable terms. Reuniting, he could see how far from the truth that was. Maddox had made a mistake when he'd left England that day, and now...he'd never get to fix it. Lyn was gone, and any shot he had at reconciliation, at atonement, had gone with her. That thought weighed heavily on him, threatening to pull him under no matter how hard he tried to stay afloat.

Maddox hung the key as he entered, gesturing vaguely toward the staircase. "Why don't you go put your stuff away, then meet me in the living room? There's...something we have to talk about."

She'd had questions nearly the moment he'd arrived at the camp to pick her up, but it hadn't been the right place, and the man had been working up the nerve to deliver the news he still hadn't fully processed himself. Everything was still so raw. Maddox still hadn't managed to say the words aloud, not even alone, but now he would have to.

Things would change--for them both.

The thought of it all overwhelmed him, and so close to the start of the new school year. He wasn't ready. The last year had been filled with so much chaos, so many unexpected twists that he'd barely recovered from.

Now there was this.

He didn't think he could do it, but that choice had now been removed from him. 

[Morgan Barlowe]

Morgan walked into her home, looking around for her mum. She’d expected the woman to be the one to pick her up from camp, but she hadn’t. Instead, it had been Maddox who greeted her. The girl was excited to see him despite the spontaneous change of plans, however now that they were standing inside the home she lived in with her mum, she looked around expecting to see some sort of sign of her presence.

"Why don't you go put your stuff away, then meet me in the living room? There's...something we have to talk about."

Unconcerned, despite his inability to answer her questions right away, Morgan saluted her father and made her way up the steps and into her bedroom. She’d missed her bed. “I’ll come back for you,” she promised the piece of furniture. She set her bag down on the duvet, then opened it and dug around until she felt the handful of new rocks she had found while at camp.

Once she had them in her grasp, Morgan bounded down the stairs and made her way into the living room. Her mum was still nowhere to be seen. “Look,” she said and set her rocks down on the coffee table so Maddox could see them. “Aren’t they so pretty?” she asked as she sat down on the carpet in front of the table. She began absent-mindedly organizing them by brightness.

“Where’s mum? Did she really decide to work today?” Morgan asked, frowning though not looking at her father.

[Maddox Barlowe]

When Morgan headed upstairs, Maddox took himself to the living room to wait. Rather than sit, the man began a slow, restless pace across the room. It was important that he kept moving. Too much stillness, an extra second of lingering, a moment too long in his thoughts, and he knew everything would hit, hard. It was something he couldn't afford, not when he now had Morgan to ease through what would be a rough transition.

One hand hung loosely inside his pocket, the other running through his hair. He...he really didn't think he could do this.

Maddox could feel his chest tightening again, the way it had when he'd first heard the news. His daughter, bounding into the living room, snatched him from the dark pit that threatened to swallow him. It forced his attention onto her, reminding him of the greater purpose he now needed to serve. Morgan had gone to camp with all the problems of a typical 12-year-old. He remembered her complaining about something her mother had done, all childish disdain but nothing deeper.

He doubted the girl, who sometimes despised the decisions Lynn had taken, ever thought there would come a day when she wouldn't have her.

“Look.”

He did. Blue eyes trained on the rocks Morgan lay out on the coffee table, wanting desperately to think about anything else for even a second more. Maddox wanted to cling to the happy child who hadn't a care in the world beyond the rocks she'd found at camp and maybe what they'd have for dinner later.

"They are," he agreed. "We can make you a disp--"

“Where’s mum? Did she really decide to work today?”

There it was again, the question he'd been avoiding from the moment he picked her up. "She's not at work, Mo," he said softly. The pacing stopped. Maddox turned his whole body to face her, bracing for the words that lodged themselves at the base of his throat, refusing to be unleashed.

"There was...an accident across town. Your mother," he swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat, understanding the importance of remaining firm in the moment. "Your mother didn't make it."

[Morgan Barlowe]

"She's not at work, Mo."

Morgan’s disappointment turned to confusion as she tried to figure out what her mum could be doing if she wasn’t at work. All the woman knew how to do was work; it was one reason why the girl preferred to be around her father. For one thing, he could turn into a cat and that was really cool, for another he gave the best hugs ever. And he always wanted her around.

His soft voice didn’t pull her attention from the rocks she’d been organizing. She felt him look at her, his blue eyes on her. Some of the rocks were the same shade of blue as his eyes – that must be why she had loved them so much.

"There was...an accident across town. Your mother… Your mother didn't make it."

Furrowing her brow, Morgan picked up one of the rocks and turned to face Maddox. She held it up. “I think this one matches your eyes!” she exclaimed, frustrated with her mum. If she hadn’t made it across town – then perhaps she was stuck in traffic. The woman who refused to use magic always complained about traffic jams. Morgan didn’t like magical travel either, but she’d rather suffer the consequences of Port Keys than deal with how boring stop-and-go traffic was.

“When will she be back, then?” Morgan then asked, deciding the rock that matched her dad’s eyes was her favorite. She set it back down on the table, but put it in front of the others, breaking up the pattern she’d been creating. “Will I get to see her before morning?” she asked, already knowing the answer was likely no.

[Maddox Barlowe]

“I think this one matches your eyes!”

...

"I...I guess it does..." Something had told him this wasn't going to be easy. The news was heavy enough on its own. Add Morgan's ability to gloss right over details, and it became obvious he would have to employ a more direct approach. It was a little like when he'd told her about Evander. Just like that day in the menagerie, it was a little difficult to tell whether she was being deliberate...especially with all the attention she was suddenly lavishing on the rocks.

Maddox watched her for a silent moment, a part of him wishing he could simply never tell her, but he knew it would never work. Barely off Camp Loki property, Morgan was already asking after her mother. Prolonged absence would only make her more insistent.

“When will she be back, then?”

He sighed deeply. "Morgan..."

“Will I get to see her before morning?”

The man crossed the floor to sit by her, sinking into the couch softly. "Morgan," he said again. This time, he reached for the rocks, scooping them all into his hands to remove the source of her distraction. "This is important, I need you to listen to me." Otherwise, they would keep going around in circles, and his daughter would keep asking questions that took deeper stabs at his chest.

"She won't be back," he continued quietly. Maddox forced himself to meet her gaze despite his growing unease. "The accident was bad," was as much as he thought she needed. "There was nothing they could do. She's..." This time, he tried to force the word out, knowing how easily Morgan could still find a way to twist it should he leave it as it was. "I'm sorry, Mo. She's dead."

There it was, out in the open. It was the first time he'd said it, and the aftertaste it left at the back of his throat was every bit as bitter as he'd imagined it would be.

But he'd said it.

[Morgan Barlowe]

Morgan didn’t look at her father as he finally began to speak, his words falling broken on her ears.

“Morgan, this is important, I need you to listen to me.”

The twelve-year-old sighed and reluctantly looked up at her dad. He was now sitting nearby and she noticed, finally, the serious look on his face. Her stomach did a flip, waiting for him to continue.

"She won't be back."

Furrowing her brow, Morgan watched her father’s face, seeing something on it that she hadn’t before. She frowned, her stomach doing yet another flip.

"The accident was bad. There was nothing they could do. She's… I'm sorry, Mo. She's dead."

Morgan’s stomach lurched, and she felt something that she couldn’t quite understand or even grasp.

It had to be a joke. Right? Maddox didn’t joke – not like that anyways. And why would he joke about something like this? It reminded her more of something Professor Amberghast (brother or sister, she wasn’t sure) might say to get her attention.

Her dad had no reason to need to say something like that.

Not unless…

Morgan’s chest tightened and felt empty at the same time. Any and all desire for food, for her rocks, for really anything was gone now. She touched one of the small stones, feeling like she was malfunctioning completely, hoping the rough surface would somehow ground her. Maybe wake her up from this nightmare.

Only, when Morgan looked back at her dad, her green eyes searching his blue eyes, did she realize that what he said was true. Her mum was gone. She’d never see her again.

A frown crossed the girl’s face and she looked back at her rocks. Could she rewind time? That’d be ideal. She didn’t want to think about something like this. It was too big.

“I found other rocks, too… different colors, but I really did like these the best…” Morgan commented, her voice shaky. What was she supposed to do?

[Maddox Barlowe]

For a time, Morgan appeared to finally understand. The words couldn't have been any clearer, and he could see the gears beginning to shift behind those eyes that suddenly reminded him a lot more of Lynn than he'd ever realised. They were lighter than the woman's, in some ways holding more passion, less worry, and a carelessness that could only be found in youth--before the cares of life crept in--but they were undeniably hers.

Green eyes searched his blue, interrogating them for answers he wasn't sure he could provide. He didn't know. For all his travelling, for all the lives he felt he'd lived, Maddox suddenly felt out of his depth.

If there was a right answer, he didn't have it. If there was a right action, he didn't know what it was. All he knew was the hurt etched into his daughter's eyes and the confusion she was trying to work her way through. His lips parted, feeling he should offer something--anything--but her eyes sank to the rocks again.

“I found other rocks, too… different colors, but I really did like these the best…”

There had never been any doubt that Morgan shared many of his traits. For better or worse, the girl was truly her father's daughter. He could see it in the moment, the way she deflected, stalling the reality that sought to consume her while her brain scrambled to catch up.

"...Mo."

He reached out, pulling her into a hug he felt she might need, if not now then in a few minutes when the dust settled on what he'd said. Maddox wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he knew he had to give her the news; screaming, maybe, an outburst of some sort, silent, bitter tears...not talk about rocks. He didn't know what to do with talk about rocks while his chest hurt as much as it did.

"I'm sorry..."

[Morgan Barlowe]

Morgan was pulled from her rocks and into her dad’s arms. She didn’t want to think about this, she didn’t want to admit that it really was happening. She just wanted her damn rocks, and her weird experiments with kissing diseases and all of that. She didn’t want this.

She almost tried pushing against him to break out of his hug, but it really did comfort her – almost as if his arms were holding her together while she began the process of crumbling into a thousand pieces.

Morgan buried her face in his chest and clung to his shirt, a wave of grief hitting her like a tsunami. “No…” she managed, her eyes squeezed shut. This was just a nightmare. She was going to wake up any second, and it would be the morning before Beastball again, when she still believed she’d see her mum when it was time to go home.

Sobs overtook her. Morgan was thankful that the sound was muffled by her father’s chest, however it didn’t help her feel any better. Her mum was gone. Sure, they hadn’t been extremely close – especially over the past year – however, she was still her mother.

The woman who had been there every single day of the young girl’s life. The woman who always kissed her forehead when she was sad, and who always managed to come through in the end, no matter how upset Morgan got at her.

That woman was gone. Never to return.

And Morgan’s carefree world was shattered.