you caught some small death when you were sleepwalking,
Having been feeling sick since she had woken up from the surreal dream world Morgan traipsed down to the kitchen to make coffee for herself and a few other people, assuming that the lack of something that normally featured prominently in her bloodstream was causing her pain and needing to stretch her legs. For weeks those headaches had been bothering her, months if she thought about it, though back in the beginning they had been so infrequent and so mild that she hadn’t really worried over them, not until now as she scrubbed her face in the palms of her hands, pressing her fingertips into her eyes. Really she ought to have noticed sooner, she was a mathematician after all, and in correlating the headaches like she would any other data she would come to the conclusion that not only were they getting more frequent but they were also getting much more painful. Of course before Warren had advised it she’d been to talk to Cecilia and Hank about what was going on, she’d even mentioned it to Tessa, her powers were off kilter and she knew it had to be because of the earthquakes. People died, they left energy behind and she felt it. It was the strongest concentration she had ever been exposed to and it was starting to make her feel really ill.
As of yet she didn't know what she would do about it, or what she could do about it and no one else seemed to either; it was most likely acclimatisation they had decidced, her body getting used to a different set of circumstances. It would just take time and patience and painkillers they had all concluded.
Apparently they were wrong.
There was a wet smash as her mug of coffee hit the kitchen floor and shattered, followed by the tray she had loaded a couple of others onto, creating a sea of dark coffee across the floor. Momo's hands were in her hair as the absolute worst pain she had ever experienced in her life burned through her skull. It was a migraine, only worse than a migraine, she couldn’t have described the shapeless, hot agony that gripped her and she didn’t have a chance to save for the weak, agonised wail in the back of her throat. With a gush of blood down her shirt from her nose unconsciousness took her into its heavy folds and gravity pulled her down to the ground with a heavy thud where she lay motionless in a puddle of coffee save for light, laboured pants and the occasional roll of her eyes behind half-closed lids.