#blink186

The first day in the hospital was a little awkward. Castiel was still seeing his brother from the crazy he had taken from Sam and he could still only see Meg as her demonic form, so he was a little freaked out by her. The first few hours she spent in his room, he was totally silent, not speaking a word to her. Meg didn't really try much talking on the first day, she just sat and watched over him, occasionally reading a magazine, occasionally watching the way his eyes flickered or the way his meat suit would jump as he followed the hallucinations of Lucifer around the room.

The second day wasn't so bad. Clearly Lucifer wasn't the main focus of his attention any more, although the hallucinations still had a pretty tight grip on him. But at least he looked at her now, although he still didn't quite make eye contact with her. She almost spoke to him once or twice, almost, but the angel was in such a fragile state she didn't quite dare.

On the third day, the nurses had started noticing their odd behaviour. Castiel hadn't eaten any of the food the nurses had left in his room and he never slept. Meg knew he didn't need to do either of these things, but even for a patient in a crazy hospital it was odd behaviour. So she finally decided to say something.

"Clarence?" She asked tentatively, leaning forward. She hoped the old nickname would help him back to reality long enough for her to talk to him. But Castiel just kept staring forward, drooling slightly. Meg rolled her eyes and reached for a tissue that was kept on the bedside table. Reaching forward she used the tissue to wipe away the small river of drool. "Clarence? Can ya hear me?" She asked in her drawling voice, not trying to hide her real self from him in any way. She needed his trust and lying to him wasn't going to help.

Castiel turned his head to look at her in a completely un-human like way. "Yes... I can." He said, his little pink tongue flashing out to get the last of the drool as he slowly began coming back to his senses.

"Clarence, you gotta eat something or the nurses are gonna think you're worse than you are." She told him softly, hoping not to startle him. To try and keep him grounded, she dropped the tissue and rested a hand against his forearm. Suddenly her fingertips were reacting in a way she didn't know they could. Energy was sizzling under the skin and racing up her arm, making her feel hot and cold all at once. Her breath caught slightly in her chest and made her meat-suit's heart stutter for half a second. Castiel looked down at the hand slowly, as if he couldn't feel the huge reaction going on between her fingers and his arm, as if it was totally normal for her hand to be there, then he looked back up.

"Yes, you're right." He told her, holding out the hand Meg wasn't touching. "I will eat." He told her, being very careful not to move the arm and break their contact.

He's fine now. Meg told herself, He's grounded, there's no reason to keep your hand on him any more. and so rather reluctantly, she pulled her hand back and reached over to pass him the plate of food.

After that, Meg made sure she would use touch as well as words to keep him grounded and focused on the conversation at hand of course. But she couldn't lie to herself, the touching was nice. She liked to run a finger down his cheek and feel the stubble growing there so he would look at her, liked to rest her hand against his arm to help him tell the difference between his head world and the real world. She liked the way he responded to her every movement, when she would help him change or when she would help him wash.

Soon, her own thought pattern changed. He was no longer "The angel" in her mind, he was "Her angel." She didn't like to be separated from him for too long, found the down time when she would have to go back to her tiny apartment almost torturous, not because the apartment was crumby, but because she was away from her angel. The touches were no longer for his benefit any more, they were all for her. She loved the cleanliness she felt when she touched him, loved the way he would sit silently and listen to her rambling on while he dutifully ate the food the nurses brought round. She wasn't even sure he was taking in what she was saying, not really, but he was quiet and made the appropriate noises at the right times in her ramblings and that's all she could ask for.

One day, she was thinking of a particularly painful torture she had had to endure down in hell. It messed with her head, made her feel weak and horrible. But the most amazing thing happened.

Castiel squinted at her in that way that she knew meant he was trying to figure something out, then he held his arm out. She struggled with believing what he was doing for a moment or two, but when he scooted over the bed slightly and held out his arm again, she was sure.

She climbed onto the bed next to him, letting her head find the comfiest place on his chest, her arm wandering over his belly, she nuzzled into his comfort, smelling feathers and air and freshness and it was exactly what she had expected an angel to smell like. Her skin zinged with the closeness, her heart racing slightly, they just stayed like that for a few moments. Castiel's breathing was such a comfort to her and his warmth was so soothing. He moved his head slightly so his lips pressed against the top of her head, the breath coming from his nose rustling a strand or two, and she was sure she heard him mutter "My thorny beauty" under his breath, but she couldn't be sure and didn't want to destroy the moment by asking him to repeat it.

But what Meg loved, more than anything about their time together, was the feeling she got way deep down, past the Meat-suit, past her own thought processes, past even her personality. Right down deep in the crevices of her soul, she felt herself changing.