There's a Dark and Troubled Side of Life
Here’s something yet to be said: Morgan was keeping one more secret from her family. She knew that went against, like, a million protocols, but even with as understanding as everyone had been these past few days, she couldn’t bring herself to part with it.
You would think that rediscovering a long-forgotten brother, running away, fighting a literal lion, and finding out her dad didn’t hate her guts, at least, not yet, would encourage her to spill everything, but as she felt her dad’s arms wrap around her as they walked on the trail back to the parking lot, she didn’t want to be the cause of any more problems.
So when he asked her later, at bedtime, “Hey Momo, are we okay here? Anything else in that big head of yours we need to talk about right now?,” Morgan smiled and shook her head and leaned into his shoulder, trying to memorize the smell of pine and oil and all the other little things that made him home. He kissed her ( “goodnight, stellina” ) and Friday dimmed her lights and she held her secret in the back of her throat, wondering if nine was going to be as hard as eight, if growing up and was always this complicated, and if her brother and dad and uncles and aunt truly loved her as much as they said they did. (Whenever Morgan had these thoughts, she would pinch herself to make her stop thinking them. The bruises she kept getting from it weren’t secret per se , but she thought it was probably best not to bring attention to it either.)
Morgan woke up a few hours later to a shouting in the hallway and flurried movement outside her door. She heard Peter’s voice and Uncle Rhodey’s—both raised—so she slipped on socks (the ones that were best for sneaking), and gently cracked the door just a hair to listen.
“Fuck that, I am going right now .” That was Peter.
“Pete, we can’t keep having this discussion, for god’s sake. We don’t even know what’s going on. You can’t do anything. You need to sleep—we will all take the quinjet in the morning. Cho said they both were stable and she and Bruce are running tests. Wong’s not coming back to portal the rest of us because he still has to figure out what’s happening with Strange.” That was Uncle Rhodey.
A loud crunching sound made Morgan jump, and she saw some dust from the hallway wall float past her door.
Calmly, her uncle’s voice came again. “Feel better? You can punch all the walls, kid, but you’re my responsibility when Tones is not here, and we’re leaving in the morning. Do you need me to send Romanoff and Barton to sit by your bed to make sure you stay?”
Peter’s whispered response sounded harsh and raw to Morgan, as if he had eaten knives. “I am not a kid. I am an adult. You can’t keep me here.”
“Try me.” Uncle Rhodey had his no-nonsense tone, the one that even her dad listened to. “Listen to me. Listen to me. It’s not your fault. None of it. Ned chose to do the spell, Tony chose to take it over. They both knew there might be consequences and they decided to brave them anyway because you were worth it. Don’t take away their choice by running off half-cocked and sacrificing yourself like we would all be better off somehow. I won’t allow it. We are not better off without you, Peter Parker. Don’t you dare keep thinking it.” A choked sob came from the hallway. Morgan had to strain to hear her uncle’s voice, which grew quieter and unbelievably fond. “Whatever happens, whatever we learn, we will fix it. But together, Pete. Please.”
Morgan couldn’t see if her brother agreed, but the hallway grew quiet. A shadow crossed her door, but before she could jump back in bed, it opened.
“I thought I heard you awake.” Peter looked like he had been crying. He opened his arms in an invitation and she jumped into them. He walked them over to her bed and went to tuck her in. He smoothed her hair back. She matched his quietness, even though she was itching to ask all the questions, and watched warily as he handed her her stuffed bear and fluffed her pillow.
“Get in, Trouble.” As she scooted under her covers, he laid down next to her. They both looked at the plastic stars on her ceiling. He sighed deeply and then turned to face her.
“So after you went to bed a couple things happened that I wanted to talk to you about.” Dread pooled in her stomach.
“We think that the spell Ned used—the one Dad got me out of—may have some effects we don’t quite understand. And because of that, a couple hours ago, when Ned and Dad both went to sleep, they couldn’t wake up.”
Morgan’s heart stuttered as he pulled her closer. “Dr. Cho and Bruce are at the New Compound right now with them—Mr. Wong portaled them all there. I just talked to Rhodey, and the rest of us will leave in the morning.”
She softly ran her fingers over Peter’s knuckles, which were bruised. “I heard you…talking.” She looked at him cheekily, fighting back the tears and panic that was cloying at her chest.
He smirked at her and shook his head. “Quiet now, Pickle. Let’s go to sleep.” She snuggled against him and felt her breath match his. His heart was beating fast and she let it soothe her to sleep.
She woke up to nails gently combing through her hair. Peter was no longer in the room, but, instead, Aunt Nat was sitting on her bed. “Good morning,little fox.” The Russian term of endearment was soft and gentle. “It’s time to wake up, Mo. Did Peter tell you the plan?”
Morgan made sure her sleeves were pulled down before sitting up and nodded. “Yeah.”
Aunt Nat smiled and said, “Good, chica. Get ready—I made Uncle Clint pack up all the presents you haven’t opened yet. We’ll take them with us and you can open them at the Compound once we check on your dad.” She kissed her on the head and walked out of the room.
Morgan got ready and met everyone in the living room. When she got there, Uncle Clint pretended his arms were broken from carrying all of Morgan’s gifts while Uncle Happy scowled at him and his watch. MJ and Peter were in a corner—it looked like they were both having a serious talk, so she turned around to find Uncle Rhodey.
He was in the kitchen with a tablet and a travel mug of coffee. When she walked in, he laid both down and held out a banana and a chocolate chip muffin. “We’re having breakfast to go, kiddo. We’re about to leave. How are you doing?” He bent down and looked her in the eyes. She thought about her secret. She decided not to think about her secret.
She looked down, and grabbed the food from his hands. “I’m ok.”
He hummed, and straightened back up. “You know if that ever changes, I’m right here to talk to. Any time, Mini-Me—the smart ones in this family got to stick together.” He winked at her and went back to working.
An hour later, when Uncle Happy looked like a vein was popping out of his head and Uncle Clint was yelling at Aunt Nat for eating the last of the gingerbread cookies (“I was going to eat those on the jet, you traitor”), they all climbed into the car to drive to the private airport where the quinjet was waiting. For a moment, Morgan let herself think what it would be like to be in a different family. Not that she wanted that, of course, but as Uncle Clint waved goodbye to Aunt Laura and Nate and Cooper and Lila, who were staying behind to do “touristy things,” she wondered what it would be like to have something normal. (“Normal” was a word she first learned way back when she was in preschool and Brady Groggins said that’s why no one wanted to play with her—because they were normal and she was not. Normal was a word she learned again, after her mom’s funeral, when Brady Groggins also said that her mom was better off dead than stuck around freaky people like her and her dad. She didn’t know much about normal. But she did know that pinching Brady Groggins felt almost as good as pinching herself.)
Morgan had a secret.
And as Uncle Clint lifted off, and Peter fell asleep on MJ’s shoulder, and Uncle Happy argued with Uncle Rhodey, and Aunt Nat stared at her while she looked out the window, Morgan wondered if telling it would make her feel better, or if it would just make everything worse.