a wild hope everything will be all right

Sometimes, it helps to see things written down.

So Meg sits at the desk in her borrowed room, and opens to a new page in one of her blue notebooks, and tries to write down everything Castiel and Michael have told her to do.

Only to discover . . . it's not much. Aside from various requests for secrecy, it basically boils down to:

1. Be kind.
2. Be as you always are.
3. Remember that you are loved -- and so is he.

Not a long list.

She stares at it for a while, and then turns to a new page and writes all three statements down again, in a different order.

And then in a third.

It's when she goes to translate them into French that she notices.

Be kind.

Kind. Adjective. Of a sympathetic or helpful nature.

As opposed to nice. Adjective. Pleasing, agreeable.

They're not quite the same thing.

Maybe the key to being kind is to know when your primary concern has to stop being agreeable. To act, instead of reacting.

Be as you always are.

She's quite capable of being a little pushy when she thinks she ought to be. And in her experience, it's almost always easier if both parties walk towards each other, rather than one standing still and waiting for the other to walk the whole of the distance.

Meg makes a short trip down to the bar, and returns this time not with a book, or a magazine, or music with headphones. Those may may be human experiences, but they're also all things you do alone.

When you get right down to it, leaving him alone isn't really what she was asked to do.

So, this time, she has a tray.

Remember that you are loved -- and so is he.

Meg takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders a little, and then and for the first time in four days, knocks on Dean's door without waiting for him to knock first.

She turns the doorknob just enough to disengage the tumblers.

And waits.