Growing Up McGee

The Tragedy - Chapter 6

Hey guys! I tried to lighten up this chapter a bit, but it's still a little dark. I think it's a little shorter than some of my previous chapters, but don't worry, I have some cool ideas for future chapters. Thanks for reading this far, and please comment with any thoughts or constructive criticisms :)

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She walked downstairs to see her Dad sitting at the dining room table, staring off into space. His arms were crossed and his foot was tapping the floor nervously. She could see the concern, and a hint of sadness, on his face. She knew it was because of her, and she immediately felt guilty. He didn't seem to see her standing there, so she gathered the courage to speak up. "Hey."

This snapped McGee out of his thoughts, and he turned towards his daughter. She could tell that he was surprised to see her standing there, because it took him a moment before he responded. "Hey."

It was silent for a moment, both father and daughter trying to think of something to say to clear up the awkwardness of the situation.

"Are you okay?" McGee asked her, since it was the only thing that had been on his mind the last few minutes.

"Um, yeah," Morgan responded, "better than I was a few minutes ago."

McGee knew it was a sensitive subject, but he couldn't help but ask, "What happened?"

Morgan grew silent for a moment. She didn't want to tell him everything, but she had to say something. She didn't muster the courage to talk about her feelings to just lie to his face. "I heard what you told Abby about the trial."

McGee thought back to his and Abby's conversation, and how he attempted to whisper his doubts about them winning. Apparently, he wasn't as quiet as he thought. "You did?"

She then realized that she admitted to eavesdropping, which probably wasn't a great thing to confess at the moment. "Yeah, I was standing on the stairs. I thought you saw me, sorry."

"No, it's okay." He told her. "I should have been upfront with you about it, but I didn't want to upset you, which is what I ended up doing anyway."

"It's not your fault." Morgan told him. "I've just been really high strung lately."

"Everyone has, M." He reassured her. "You don't have to feel bad about it."

"No, I do." She responded. Her father looked a little confused, so she continued. "I've been more than 'high strung'. I've been moody, I've been shut off, and I've been panicky this past week. I've been pretty closed off and haven't told you anything that's been going on, because I know you're trying to cope too, and I didn't want you to have anything else to worry about. But now I know that isolating myself is only making you worry more, so I'm gonna come clean. I've hardly eaten anything in three days. I come downstairs in the morning and eat a cereal bar, but that's it. I'm running on a few hours of sleep because I have nightmares about the crash that wake me up, and it makes me too afraid to fall back asleep. I constantly panic and get sick at least once a day." At this point, Morgan was in tears. "Hell, I can't even look at any pictures of Mom and Johnny without crying and throwing them across the room. I can't even talk to you anymore, because I feel like I'm going to break down again, like I did at the hospital. I just feel like I'm spiraling every second of every day, and I tried to fix it, but I can't."

Before she could say anything else, McGee quickly walked over to her and wrapped her in a hug. Morgan sobbed into his shoulder, much like that day in the hospital. However, this time, they weren't just tears of sadness, they were tears of relief. Getting all of that off of her chest was freeing, and it felt like she wasn't totally alone.

After a moment, the two sat down at the table together, and McGee took over. "You don't ever have to be ashamed or embarrassed that you're struggling, Morgan, because I am too. I've had days that I haven't eaten, I haven't slept, and I've had panic attacks, but you know who I've talked to about it?"

Morgan just looked at him, wiping away her tears. "Who?"

"My mom." McGee told her. "I was a little embarrassed too, but once I talked it out, I felt so much better. I know I'm nowhere close to Granny, or even your mother, but I'm always here to listen and always here to help you. Don't feel like you're making it harder on me, because when you let me know what's going on, I know how to help you, and that's my only focus right now. I love you so much, and I will do whatever it takes to get both you and me through this."

"I love you too." Morgan responded, smiling a little bit. "But it goes both ways, you know. I also get nervous when I don't know stuff, so I need to know what's going on too."

"I think we can make that work." McGee said, smiling back. There was a pause before McGee asked, "Where's Abby?"

Morgan had been so caught up with the conversation that she completely forgot about Abby. "Oh, she's cleaning up the broken glass in my room, I should probably go help her-"

"Wait, broken glass?" McGee interrupted.

"Umm, the one from the picture that I threw across the room." Morgan told him, realizing how overdramatic that decision was.

"Was that the crash that I heard upstairs?" He asked, now a little concerned.

"Yep." She answered awkwardly. "I'll try not to do that again."

McGee chuckled a little bit, knowing that wasn't going to be the last object she threw across her room. Not a second later, Abby came down the stairs. "It's all cleaned up! There wasn't much I could do about that dent in the wall, though, so I just taped the picture in front of it."

"Dent?" McGee questioned, looking at Morgan.

"Abby, didn't you say Ellie brought over a casserole?" She asked while walking towards the refrigerator, in an attempt to avoid answering her father.

McGee raised his eyebrows at Abby, and she only shrugged. The three ate the remainder of the casserole, but not long after, Abby had to go home. She said her goodbyes to Morgan, and McGee walked her outside.

"Hey, Abbs?" He called as she walked to her car.

"Yeah?" She asked, looking back at him.

He looked at her sincerely. "Thank you."

She smiled, knowing how much he meant it. "Anytime."