Meg (meganmasters) wrote in cedarwells, @ 2013-08-22 00:46:00 |
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Meg ran a brush through her dripping hair, easing out the tangles and snarls. Sometimes she missed the short, blonde look, but only rarely. That look had been designed for a specific purpose. She'd been playing a part then, and she'd played it well. With this body, however, she hadn't needed to be anyone but herself, and so she'd kept it long. It was how she prefered it. It could be a real pain sometimes, but somethings never truly left a person, no matter how long they lived. And her hair had always been long when she'd been alive. Reaching for a second towel to wind around it, she paused. She'd forgotten, she only had the one now. She'd given two others to Cas to deal with his bruising. She supposed he'd appear out of nowhere at some point, holding them. He wasn't the type to forget things, no matter how small. And she hadn't forgotten why she'd sent him away, either. Another five minutes and she wouldn't have cared that he was injured. She'd have hurt him just for the hell of it because damn, it would have felt good while she was doing it. But, oddly enough, she'd cared more about the fact that she would be willing to hurt him for her own gain than anything else. Things had changed for her. Not the big things, not where she saw herself in the world, not her sense of self or purpose, merely how she approached those things. Crowley hadn't broken her with his torture, much as he'd tried. He'd merely stripped away the layers until she could see herself as she truly was, something she'd avoided for so long it had become a defining aspect of her personality. Drapping her wet towel over the rack, she turned and walked across her apartment towards her bedroom. Picking up a soft black t-shirt from her drawer, she slid it over her head. Out of habit, she reached for the lacier side of her underwear draw, but changed her mind. Might as well be comfortable. She picked up a pair of red cotton boy shorts and slid them on. For a second, she eyed her phone, sitting on top of her dresser. She thought about the people she might call. Chester...but things were strained there, she knew it. She wasn't an idiot. With the bullshit that had gone down last week, she knew Chester didn't like being put off, but the boys didn't need a civilian gumming up the works. She was out of her depth. She might have called Dean, but why? She didn't want to admit it, but she was lonely, and being controlled for any length of time left her feeling vulnerable. But she wasn't about to let him know that. No, she was better off in her army of one. Dejectedly, she walked back into the living room and paused, not sure what she wanted to do. Read...tv...computer...she felt listless and disinclined to do much of anything. |