Meg slid onto the bench next to Sam, eyeing the bottle the girl was holding in her hand as she did. "I'll take that," she said. She'd actually drank it some, although, not as much as she would have done back home. As much as it sucked, the thing she'd learned in the last year back home was that if she drank herself into a stupor, that was when something horrible would attack and they'd be caught unable to fight.
Angels were dicks.
Meg nodded slightly. "The alternate multiple thing is a bit much," she said. "I'm doing well enough to keep track of every one person, much less two or three." Not that she'd seen three of anyone yet, but it was possible and she didn't want to be blindsided. "If another version of Cas turns up, I'm gonna shove myself in a locker somewhere and just hide."
Not to mention if a Sam or Dean from her world turned up. Or even from a world where they had dicks. Or were dicks. Or whatever. Depending on when they was from, she was going to have to rely heavily on her charm and ability to jeans punch if need be. She'd stopped trusting them when they'd expected Cas to help Sam with no. . .incentive. If she hadn't been there, he'd probably have done it.
Her main deal was that the only person she'd miss if she'd woken up here alone had woken up here with her. So, while she was pissed that things like Tokyo and baby sloths were gone, she wasn't lonely or alone like some people here were. It made a difference in her outlook, and made it hard for her to process that other people were still missing someone.