OOM-But-Not, Waking Up In Milliways
Her eyelids feel heavy, like opening them would be too much work and it's a better idea to just lie here with them closed and listen to things.
And the sounds are . . . not unfamiliar, but not anything she usually hears with her eyes closed.
Meg is reasonably certain that she has been sleeping, there seems to be a pillow under her head, and she's under some kind of blanket, though she doesn't remember making a decision to lie down. Or to go to sleep. In fact . . .
In fact she remembers deciding to stay awake. Because . . .
Because Alain is . . .
Meg's eyes snap open and she sits up.
And the sounds are . . . not unfamiliar, but not anything she usually hears with her eyes closed.
Meg is reasonably certain that she has been sleeping, there seems to be a pillow under her head, and she's under some kind of blanket, though she doesn't remember making a decision to lie down. Or to go to sleep. In fact . . .
In fact she remembers deciding to stay awake. Because . . .
Because Alain is . . .
Meg's eyes snap open and she sits up.

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And she's surprised to find that it's truer than she expects it to be. She's still a little sore, but she feels sort of like someone gave her an absolutely mammoth dose of Tylenol.
Which . . . someone may have.
"What did you do to me?"
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"I made you sleep."
"You needed the rest."
Castiel's eyes go to the sling and the cut on her face.
"I would have done more. But..."
Milliways has always had an unpredictable effect on his abilities.
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Though she doesn't bother to try to deny that she needed the rest.
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"You would not have consented."
He has known her for a while. Enough to be comfortable guessing.
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"But that doesn't change the fact that you should have asked.
"Please don't do something like that again.
"But thank you, for doing it this time. I feel a little better."
Physically, anyway.
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He does avoid promising that his actions will never be repeated. If the circumstances warranted it, he would do it again.
"I am glad that you feel better."
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"I should go back," she says.
She won't have missed anything there -- she'll go back to the moment she left.
But the longer she stays here, the longer this will all last for her.
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"You should have water. And food of some sort."
The human body requires a delicate balance of such things--sleep, food, drink--to keep it in good repair.
"You slept for some time."
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Meg nods.
And then adds, "I'd kind of like to brush my teeth, too."
Meg is silent for a second, and then she asks, "Do you . . . do you know what's going to happen?"
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A clear expression of, I do not understand.
And not about dental hygiene.
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"Do you know what's going to happen to him?"
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"No. I do not."
"But I have prayed for his well-being."
And for Meg's.
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It's kind of the answer she expected.
That doesn't make it the answer she wanted.
"Thank you."
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"Eat. And drink something. Then go back."
"And leave the rest to God."
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Or asking what the point of giving humans gifts and telling them use them is, if you're just supposed to leave things to God.
Because she doesn't feel up to debating theology with an angel right now.
And because, at the end of the day, no matter who she leaves the rest up to, there's always going to be a limit to what Meg can do.
And in this case, what she can do is eat something, so that she doesn't make things worse for everyone else by passing out in a hospital waiting room.
So, in the end, what she does is nod.
And then take a deep breath.
And stand. "I'm going to brush my teeth and maybe wash my face, and then I'll eat something. And have some water."
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"Do you wish me to wait?" he asks.
No one is expecting him anywhere.
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"No, that's okay. I'll be fine."
She doesn't plan to be here long.
And, this being Milliways, and her having apparently been asleep in the middle of it for who knows how long . . . well, Meg would not be surprised if other people wanted to talk to her.
"Thank you, though."