Meg sighed and put down her magazine, casting him a look that was somewhere between amusement and annoyance. How could have been around for so long and still be so clueless about the most mundane, everyday things? She supposed the difference between them lay in the fact that while he had spent most of human history in heaven, quietly watching, she'd been on the planet, watching tv, going to movies, reading books, and having sex. She also had the added benefit of having been human once upon a time, so she supposed that put her up a little higher on the learning curve than him. Still, she wasn't the one who was now going to have to deal with actual humanity. She downed the rest of her coffee in one drink, ignoring the way it scalded her throat as she swallowed.
"It's fine," she snapped in a quiet voice and stood, moving to the far side of the living room until she felt her power begin to return. She stood, leaning against the wall, with her arms crossed over her chest and looking down at her feet. She was feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer she stayed with him, and she wasn't entirely sure why. She'd felt so good just moments before. She'd felt comfortable and safe. But, beneath that, she'd also felt a growing sense of worry. She took care of him, she'd cooked for him, she'd made sure no one knew where he was and spent most nights seated on the couch, watching the door, in case someone unexpected came looking for him while he slept. She was letting herself disappear into the cause...protecting him. The part of her that was so fiercely independent clawed at her from the inside, asking "Why?" She refused to answer it. She knew the answer. She'd said it before, but she'd been sure she was about to die. This...whatever this was...she didn't know how to deal with it.
"Castiel" she said without preamble. She'd purposely used his name. Her nicknames for him, they'd originally kept her from connecting to him too deeply. But, at some point, the opposite had become true. "Why haven't you called for your boys yet?"