milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[OOM-but-not: Five days.]

Meg comes downstairs this evening, knitting bag in hand, considers for a moment, and then selects a comfortable chair not far from the fireplace.

She's working this evening on another scarf, this one a dark purple, worked in cables. It's a complicated pattern, which is good, as it leaves her mind with very little room to think about anything else.

She would not be adverse to company, so long as you don't mind catching her at a good stopping point.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Castiel nods.

"I remembered it. When I was....on my mission."

"Time flowed strangely."

"I gathered as much."

She pauses, smoothing out the scarf in her lap.

"You remembered it there?"

"Yes."

Meg, and many others had accompanied Castiel on his journey.

"It was strange. I was cut off from the voices of my brothers and sisters. But I heard people from this place. You. X. Anna. Michael. Elle. And others."

"And when the door appeared when I was leaving, I suppose I took it all as a sign of what I was to do."

Castiel appears to be studying the cables of the scarf.

"I pray I've done right."

"Me, too," she says.

"A lot.

"I have no idea if I'm doing the right things, here. I'm just . . . making my best guesses."

Castiel has no doubt but that her prayers are heard.

And it is something of a comfort to him to know that, should things go disastrously, Meg at least will not be summoned to the Heavenly equivalent of a court marshall.

"You have made more progress than I was able to manage."

"I think your part in this and mine are going to be hard to compare. And I don't think there's any point in trying. I couldn't have done what you did, after all."

"Each according to the strengths God graced us with."

Castiel tips his head.

"It is fitting. That we fill in each other's weaknesses."

Providence, some might call it.

"I guess that's why God gave everyone different ones.

"I'm glad I can help."

Or try to help.

"I am glad you chose to help."

There are reasons why meg was his first choice.

Meg nods.

She's silent for a moment, and then she says, "I don't suppose you need a scarf, do you?"

Castiel half smiles.

"I do not feel the cold."

This is not to say, though, that he would decline such an offer. Sentiment might actually be involved.

"That is not the first one you have made, I think."

"No," she says.

"This will be the fourth. And two pairs of gloves and a hat."

It gives her something to do.

"Productive."

Unlike exploring. Or, at least, not in the same way.

"You should be well prepared for winter."

"Yes, I guess I will.

"Are you sure you don't want a scarf? Or gloves? Or a hat?"

Like hospitality, generosity from a friend is not easily denied.

"Perhaps a scarf."

It would be easy enough to wear safely beneath the coat.

Meg produces the three finished ones -- a simple blue one, deep red done in seed stitch, and one with grey and white stripes.

"Pick one."

Castiel looks...not quite pained. But he is still not the best when presented with choices, and it crops up at the oddest of times.

Still, as choices go, this is one without anything resembling dire consequences.

Castiel is still for a long moment before reaching over and carefully taking the red one.

"I like that one.

"Good choice."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only