"You appear to be more than a little drunk," Castiel answered after a moment, noting that she at least smelled so strongly of alcohol that it nearly masked everything else that made up what smelled so clearly of Meg to him. It wasn't a flowery or romantic sort of notion, but a truthful one. He knew her scent, had gotten used to it over the course of the past month, because it had been something that comforted him when they were back at the hospital and she'd been his care taker. "Did you attempt to drink a liquor store?" He was curious now, just how much alcohol she'd in fact imbibed, because it had to be quite a bit, for it to have any sort of effect on her. It had taken him a decent amount of alcohol for him to become drunk himself, when he'd been an angel and he assumed the situation was similar for demons as well.
"I see." There was a sadness in his heart, knowing she'd gone back to her home once, but he'd managed to miss her in that lone time she'd gone back. He wondered if she'd gone back just before or after he'd arrived one day or if he'd have missed her completely. Quickly, he decided not to dwell on that, because it wouldn't serve him well in this situation. Meg was currently in need of help, whether she admitted it out loud or not, it was the truth.
Castiel didn't miss a beat as he moved to steady her, to keep her from falling over and his thumb brushed against her wrist, trying to communicate through action alone that he was simply trying to help her.
"Allow me to help you, Meg." He asked this of her, not requested, because she did not owe him anything. He may have told her that he loved her, yes, but he knew that would not change things dramatically between them. This was Meg, if she wanted to allow him to help her, it would have to be on her own terms.