Dog Days of Summer: Diary of a Were

[Summer Morgan]

Lone Wolf [Complete]

Another town, another day, another bar to spend my hard earned money in. I smiled to myself, smug with contentment. This was the life indeed, the life I always envisioned for myself all the while in that claustrophobic little hick town. I should feel guilty for leaving it all behind me. My mother who did nothing but raise me and in her own way, love me. I should, but I don't. I've never been happier, never felt more free. I waved my hand to signal the moping bartender. I raised my bottle of Coors and smiled. He rolled his eyes at me, but did as I requested. Turning back to the small refridgerator full of various beers and other bottled alcohol. I drummed my fingers on the dark varnished wooden bar counter as I waited on my drink.

I lazily gazed around the bar and took in the vast emptiness. All but me and an already out of it man in his late fifties. He sat slumped over his table, his matted grey hair all over his face. My lips curved into a smirk and a shook my head a little.
"Can't hold his drink" I muttered to myself, bemused. An unsubtle cough from behind me made me spin round in my stool. There was Mopey, hand out towards me looking for payment.
"There you go Sunshine" I grinned at him, much to his annoyance. "You can keep the change for such warm, friendly service" I said, my words dripping with sarcasm. He raised an eyebrow at me and sort of grunted a reply. Was the most communication I'd had with him since I arrived forty five minutes ago.

As I put the cold bottle to my lips, the brown door swung open and in walked three rather surly looking men. Finally some entertainment, I mused internally. They all walked in unison to the table at the very back of the bar. It was more dimly lit than any other part of the bar. Seemed to suit them just fine as they all sat down in a huddle. One of the men, the tallest of the three stood up and made his way over to the bar counter. He stood right next to me and I couldn't help but eye him from top to bottom and back up again. He was above average in muscularity, his toned physique clad in a white shirt unbuttoned about half way and tight stonewash denims. His hair was freshly shaved in close, so I couldn't make out what colour his hair was. He must have felt my eyes on him as he turned slightly, his brown eyes twinkled with a hint of danger.
This was getting better and better with each passing minute. Then it hit me, something was familiar about him. Something...otherwordly. My eyes widened and I couldn't have hidden my excitement had I tried, and I did.

"Got a problem, sweetheart" his voice was deep and husky and a hint of menace was all around.
"No problem at all big guy" I flashed him my very best winsome smile and raised my bottle towards him. "Just being friendly"

He eyed me with suspicion, but nodded and said no more to me. He placed his order and gripped all three bottles of Budweiser in his large hands and went back over to his two smaller, wiry buddies at the dimly lit table. They huddled once more and the two smaller men occasionally looked up to gaze over at my direction. One with scruffy ash blonde hair gave me a salacious wink. I let out a small laugh and rolled my eyes as I turned my attentions back to my Coors. Not quite my type.

I sat there drinking my beer and contemplating tall, moody and bald. Had he recognised what I was? It took me only a few seconds to realise he was two-natured, just like me. Just what he was I didn't know. I was filled to the brim with curiosity however and despite how that always seemed to lead me to trouble in the past I just couldn't help myself. I liked to flirt with danger, part of my nature or so I kept telling myself anyway.

The bar was deathly silent apart from the random drunken mutterings of the grey haired man slumped in the corner and the hushed huddle-talk of the three men. I took a long swig of my beer and noted to the the miserable barman that I needed another. The silence was killing me, it was awkward and stifling, I needed music desperately. I stood up from my barstool and walked across the varnished floor, heading straight for the old Wurlitzer jukebox and scanned down the list of songs.

"It's not on" a dour voice called over towards me. I turned my face towards the bartender and scowled accordingly.
"Well, could you turn it on, this place is about as cheerful as a morgue."
"Yeah, get that thing on man" another voice came from across the room, I swivveled my head round and it was the bald guys' scruffy blonde friend. "This place needs livened up" he flashed me a wide grin. I didn't respond, choosing instead to glare at the barman.
"See, I'm not the only one that wants some entertainment" I half heartedly pointed to the table behind me. The barman grunted, his lank black hair swishing behind him as he turned away to switch on the jukebox from the power supply.

The lights switched on simultaneously and I grinned and went back to looking over the list of songs. I let out a small squeal of excitement as noticed the one song that could make me feel happy, no matter where I was and no matter the circumstance. I took some coins from my grey leather wallet that was attatched to my dark blue Levi's and placed them into the slot and excitedly pressed in the code for my song. I physically had to restrain myself from skipping back to my seat at the bar, which was almost in vain as the opening to the song began.

This ain't a song for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud

I grinned from ear to ear and before I knew it I was singing along to the chorus and swaying in my chair, my long brown hair swished and bobbed in time to the music. I even forgot all about the gorgeous two-natured specimen and his buddies behind me. The song meant the world to me, it was my theme song. The one that represented me and everything about me.

"Enjoying yourself" the husky voice made me almost leap out of my chair. I tilted my head towards him and gave a crooked smile in reply. "It's getting a lot more entertaining, that's for sure" he shook his head in amusement and even broke out a smile. When I said smile, I meant a full on grin. I hate to admit it but it made my heart jump. I held out my hand towards him, my eyes never leaving his.
"Summer" I offered him my name with as innocent a smile as I could manage. He took my hand and opened his mouth to speak but he suddenly froze, like he'd just remembered something really important he had to do or say that it wrecked his current train of thought. My smile faded and I raised an eyebrow, "Hello? Anybody home"

Still clutching my hand he pulled me in close to him and his eyes looked intensely into mine. "You are different" he finally sputtered out. "Don't even try to deny it" his voice was low and serious. I moved in even closer to him, mere inches from his face, I smirked back at him. "I knew you were different the minute you came to the bar. I just don't know how different."

We stood locked in this tight and close handshake, oblivious to every pair of eyes in the bar on us. I broke the brief silence, "So what now" another short pause and his grin returned. "Now you come sit with some of your own kind. The name's Marco."

[Summer Morgan]

((If this needs a seperate thread, feel free to move it))

Rude Awakening

7:45am. April 19th 2005.
The painfully annoying buzzing of my alarm clock started with a jolt. I groaned and stretched my hand out towards it and half-heartedly swiped at the off switch. Missed. My hand reached up and this time hit the mark, ending the torture. My eyes blinked as I fought with the feeling of being awake. Ugh, sleep. I need sleep I closed my eyes tightly and cleared my head, trying desperately to return to the land of nod. Still not working. I rolled onto my back and lay there for a moment, my eyes open and my mood not the greatest. I let out an annoyed sigh and rolled onto my other side. I couldn't help but smile as I saw him laying on his side facing me, drooling all over his pillow. Gross, but sorta cute at the same time.

I grinned, the thoughts running through my mind at a million miles an hour. "Marco!" I gave him a heavy nudge. "You forgot to turn the alarm off." I squinted my eyes as he lay there, still happily drooling in his sleep. Uh uh, no way was he sleeping while I was unhappily awake. "Marco!" I gave him a heavier nudge and called his name just that bit louder. I grinned as he began to stir, he looked as unhappy as I was 5 minutes ago. "Why in the hell did you wake me, Summer?"
"You didn't turn the alarm off." I said flippantly with a smirk. "That's it." he rolled his eyes, too tired to notice my teasing. "I couldn't get back to sleep" I pouted and forced a sigh. Marco shifted over to lay on his back, letting out a real sigh.

I watched him in silence, it had been about 3 months since our chance meeting in the bar. I had never for one minute thought it would have turned out like this. It was meant to be harmless fun and flirting and here I was happy and very much in love. I must have been laying there with a stupid, dopey grin on my face as he turned to scowl at me and smiled instead.
"What?" we both asked in unison, I let out a small giggle.
"Nothing" I said, in a rare coy voice. "Just happy"
Marco arched an eyebrow at me, "Only just happy?" blatantly teasing me.
"Very happy" I replied with a grin, "Happy now?" I asked with a small laugh. "Very happy" he smiled and leaned over and gave me a small gentle kiss.

Our little happy moment was rudely interupted by the ringing of Marco's cell phone. "Ignore it" I whispered, hoping to resume our little romantic gestures. "I can't, it might be important." he replied deflated, as he reluctantly picked up and flipped it open to answer. He mouthed the words dad to let me know that it really was an important call after all. I watched as he spoke to his father, who as apparently a rather important individual. I hadn't had the pleasure yet, Marco and I were content keep there relationship private for the time being.

Marco hung up and he looked at me, his face etched in worry. "What was that all about?" I asked, sitting upright behind my three plumped pillows. He didn't answer, choosing instead to toy with the phone in his hands. "Marco" I started, snatching the phone out of his hands. "What is going on?" He slumped heavily into the mattress, tilting his head up towards me. "He wants to meet you." He looked utterly horrified as he spoke the words to me.
"Oh and this is bad?" I asked, a little hurt at his attitude. Marco shifted uncomfortably, deep in thought. I groaned loudly, irritated at his inability to communicate. I shot out of the bed as fast as I could and grabbed my khaki combat pants from the floor and made my way towards the bathroom.

"Summer!" Marco called after me, I waved him off and kept walking. Within seconds he was at my feet and he gently spun me round toward him. I stood there in just my tatty old Aerosmith t-shirt that was fit only for bedroom wear, silently fuming. "You're that ashamed of me" I managed to spit out as I felt my eyes watering.
"I am not ashamed of you Summer, I love you." his words were as sincere as they ever were, but I was still not satisifed. "So, why do you seem so unnerved by the thought of me meeting your father." I pulled out of his arms and folded mine across my chest. He looked down at me, his face more than a little embarassed. "Well" I prodded, determined to get an answer.

"He doesn't know you're a Were" Marco finally sputtered out the reason. "What!" I roared back, angry and confused. He put his hands up defensively. "He knows you're a Shifter, but he never asked what kind so I sort of never told him." Now he looked at me, full of guilt. "Summer, I'm sorry but if he knew what you were. He'd go ape" I fell down onto the edge of the bed, neither of us spoke for a few minutes. I was letting all the information sink in and the more I thought about it, the more it amused the hell out of me. I burst into a fit of laughter.

Marco knelt down beside me, he looked confused. "You're not mad"
I wiped away some tears from the corner of my eyes, and looked into his big brown puppy dog eyes and smiled. "Nah, It's kinda funny I guess. He hate Were's or somethin" I asked, already figuring out the answer. Marco nodded, though he didn't look happy. "He is oddly prejudiced, he never has explained why" I shrugged my shoulders, "Who cares? I don't." I draped my arms about his shoulders and gave him a reassuring kiss. "I have you, to hell with what anyone else thinks about us."

[Summer Morgan]

Esse Quam Videri

It had been 4 years since my very first shift into a Werewolf when my mother sat me down to have one of her infamous talks with me. Which was essentially nothing more than a glorified lecture. I was a little bit over 16 years old and my bolshy nature was at the very early stages so I really didn't want to listen to my mother drone on and on endlessly about how sh*t I was in school and how I "must do better". She was remarkably sober, so that was at least one positive.

I slumped down on the tatty old leather sofa in our sitting room, more interested in examining my frayed fingernails than listen to her talk to me. I stretched out along the sofa like a lazy old cat. How ironic all things considered.
"Summer!" My mothers voice bellowed over to me from the matching and equally tatty leather armchair. "Summer, are you even trying to listen to me?" her voice was agitated and sharp.

"Yes, I hear you mom" I returned with a complimentary agitation.
"You want me to be better in school, to be better and not be such a worthless loser. I get it." I snapped with real bitterness in my voice not even looking at her. "Summer Natalie Morgan" she spat out more frustrated than angry. She always adressed me with my full name when she was pissed. Looking back on it I can't really blame me, I was being particularly horrid in this instance.

Sighing in the most over the top manner, I sat upright on the chair and looked into her eyes. She looked terrible, like she'd not been sleeping. Heavy baggage under her pale grey eyes, her red hair pulled back haphazardly. "This isn't about school Summer." and off she went on one of her tangents. "I figure you're old enough now and I can tell you things you need to know."

I almost threw up in my mouth, I really didn't need nor want the sex talk. She must have noticed the disgust on my face, not that I was trying to hide it or anything. She frowned a little, and the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes bunched up. "It's not that. It's about your father." she finally stopped dancing in circles and came out with it. That wasn't going to change my reaction though.
"What about him? You said he died before I was born." I was no looking deeply into her eyes, her guilt was blatantly written all over her face, her body slumped a little. Her hands wringing together nervously. "He's not dead." she said softly as her head hung.

I shot upright from the sofa. "What!? I don't understand. Why would you tell me he was dead? Mom? Mom!?!" I could feel my eyes filling with years, I tried so hard to fight them back. But it was futile. "How could you do this to me?" I said through painful sobs. "Why would you lie to me like this?"

My mother looked up at me, she too in tears. "You were too young to understand back then. Too young." she sniffed and wiped her tear stained face with the sleeve of her self knitted navy blue cardigan. "I didn't want you to feel bad, blame yourself." She was rambling which was never good. "Blame myself for what?" I asked now with a bit more of a grip on my emotions. "Mom, just tell me. Please." my voice pleaded with her to end the torture.

"Summer, your father isn't dead. He's out there somewhere as he didn't want to be a husband or a father. He chickened out of the responsibility. He's out of our life of his own choosing." My head was pounding and I felt myself fall backwards onto the softness of the leather. "I'm sorry Summer." my mother was calm now, though the tears still trickled down her face.

"Do you know where he is?" I heard myself ask, though it was as if I was watching it all unfold from above. I was stunned and appauled. I didn't know what to think yet. I was neither angry or sad, just numb. "No honey, I don't and I don't want you looking for him either." the tears were gone and it seemed she'd absorbed any potential anger I may have felt. She seemed to almost vibrate with rage. I'd never seen my mother so ticked off before. "Promise me Summer, promise me you'll never seek him out." I meekly nodded back to her. "I won't look for him mom, I promise." and I meant it back then. What good would it do me? He didn't want to know me then why would he want to know me now?

"You're a good girl Summer, and I know I get on your case. But I do love you." she thinly smiled at me. "I love you too mom" and I stood up and wrapped my arms around her and held onto her tightly.

Later that night, I lay awake in my bed. The thoughts of rejection swimming around me in a vicious circle. Why hadn't my mother told me this sooner? I got up and went downstairs to the kitchen to grab a glass of water to take back up with me. The door to the sitting room was ajar and I snuck a peak inside as I heard the low mutterings of the television. My mother was laying on the sofa, bottle of scotch on the floor beside her, three quarters empty. A chunky glass of scotch on the rocks in her limp hand. She was dozing off and muttering in her sleep. When I look back I realise now it wasn't muttering but snuffling and low growling.

I took the glass from her limp hand and pulled the thick cotton throw over her and kissed her on the forehead goodnight. I sighed and went back upstairs and lay awake for another hour before caving into a deep sleep.

I still wonder to this day why she never told me the whole truth about who and what I was. I will have to ask her one day.

[Summer Morgan]

Wolf Pack

Six months had passed since I drove into New Jersey. I'd gotten myself tangled up in a relationship with a Shifter, a werecougar to be precise. Marco Olivetti was his name and he was everything I'd ever wanted. Gorgeous, funny, smart and to put the icing on the cake he was built like the proverbial outhouse and at the risk of sounding even more shallow, d*mn good in bed.

We'd been together for a little under the six months I'd arrived into his home town. We were as happy as happy can be, with the exception of his father pretty much hating me on sight. Didn't help matters that I was a Were and he had some sort of inferiority complex. Still, that didnt deter me or Marco, we continued on without his blessing. It was good to feel this loved, I'd never experienced anything like it before. I certainly wasn't looking for love but it found me and rejecting my cynicism I embraced it and him completely.

Another unexpected turn of events was being brought in to speak to the New Jersey Packmaster. A haggard, set in his ways man in his early 50's. Mike Harrison was his name, and he'd give off vibes to even non Supes. He was tall, a mane of greying long black hair, a huge shaggy beard that looked like he'd been gnawing on a bears backside and thick eyebrows that discreetly met in the middle. He was so stereotypical it was hilarious.

I seemed to get in somehow, and against my better judgement agreed to join his pack. Things went awry about a week later. I was called in for a meeting with Mike. He waxed lyrical about how it wasn't right I was mixed up with a shifter that wasn't a Were. I told him in no uncertain terms it was none of his business who I slept with. Well, as you can imagine that went down like concrete boots. I was given an ultimatum, leave Marco or the pack. I smiled sweetly at him, all the while giving him the one finger salute. Thus turning my back on pack life forever.

[Summer Morgan]

The Day After the Night Before

I had been on the road for roughly 4 hours. Stopping at a gas station to fill up my bike, making sure I could keep going for a little longer. I just needed to ride and let the road take me wherever. Anything to stop me thinking. But I couldn't stop thinking. The last 24 hours had been the wildest of my entire 25 year old life. Okay so I'm not 25 yet, but you get the point.

I'd met a man, quite by chance and sheer luck as my bike decided it didn't want to work anymore. He came looming over the horizon, straddling a Harley Davidson and he...well he changed everything. His name was Evan, Evan McCallister and he was about the hottest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on. All long hair and attitude and the sexiest pair of bedroom eyes. Everything about him set me on fire. I hadn't felt this alive since..well since Marco.

He was as close to perfection as I'd ever seen. He made me laugh, made me smile, made me feel desirable again and not like some cheap skank. Oh he was as far from Dale as you can get. He was the Anti-Dale. He also had this ferocious protective streak a mile wide. Though I never ever felt in danger or threatened by him at all. If anything he made me feel safe, secure.

Well, he fixed my bike and we went for a drink. Which led to many and a round of tequila, oh and not forgetting the darts. I hustled his fine ass in a bet and soon after was being invited up to his room.

Oh what a night it was. The connection we shared was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Now, not that I've been with many men in my 24 and a bit years. But from my own experiences, it was intense. Erotic. Sensual. Powerful. I had the best night of lovemaking I'd ever had. Which ended up being the problem.

We'd agreed that I'd stay the night and we'd have breakfast in the morning, no doubt other more stimulating things would occur. But I'll never know now. Because I was stupid. I freaked out, thinking way too much about my past and what would Marco think about me jumping into bed with the first good looking guy that made me feel good about myself.

The guilt pretty much overwhelmed me. I hated myself for what I did, or what I thought I'd done to Marco's memory. I had to get out of there, I had to leave Evan behind and be on my own. It was for the best. Except leaving him that morning tore out a part of my soul and remained behind there with him. A part of my soul I'll never regain.

I contemplated going back there, and almost turned my bike back several times. I'm not quite sure why I didn't. I should have, but I was scared and stupid and thought he'd hate me. So what was the point in going back?

I know he's out there somewhere and I'm no doubt long forgotten. Just another notch on his belt of picked up women from the roadside. I can only hope I made as much of an impact on him, as he made on me. I won't ever forget him or the wonderful night of passion he gave to me.