Meg stepped back towards him, guiding his his arm around her waist and letting her weight sag against him slightly. She felt far too tired for this. She wondered if she'd even be able to stand long enough to shower, or if she should just let her body collapse as it so clearly wanted to. She took idle pleasure in the idea of asking him to help her shower, but abandoned the idea almost immediately. She was in no shape for any kind of real fun, so what was the point?
"Yeah, Castiel. I'm accepting your help. But I don't need food, just..." she almost said 'You' but pulled back from it at the last moment. "Just rest," she finished instead. She let him guide her back towards the building, abandoning her jacket and boots without a backward glance. She'd get new ones. Ones that didn't have a week's worth of alcohol and bar grim rubbed into the fibers. As they walked, her mind wandered.
I love you,, she admitted, but only in her head. I love you, and I have for a long time. You could ask me for anything and I'd give it to you. Don't you realize that? You made a good girl out of me, Clarence. Your daddy would be so proud.
"I kind of fucked this up, didn't I?" she asked idly, resting her head against his side as they walked. Did he really have to be so much goddamn taller than her? I mean sure, it had it's perks, but sometimes he just made her feel so tiny.