Castiel didn't look at her immediately, but his gaze did drop to his hands again instead of staring through the wall. Finally, he glanced up, taking a deep breath and lifting his chin, trying still to present himself as calm and in control even though he really didn't need to. Meg knew better anyway.
He might've, upon meeting her eyes, decided to let his walls down and talk to her, except that he couldn't. It was much harder to allow himself to act on emotion rather than logic when he had to actively think about and choose to communicate; words could come out without thought, but to write or sign he had to make a conscious effort. So often, his loss didn't bother him in the way most assumed it did, but other times it bore down on him and made him feel even more trapped in this body than he already did.
Part of the problem was that he didn't know what to say, when he stopped to think about it. How could he explain? What did she know, and what did she not? He didn't want to put this on her anyway; she obviously had enough of her own problems to deal with, especially mortal for whatever is going on in this place now, and Castiel knew how tough it was to adjust. She didn't need to by worrying about him, especially when his problems had no fix.
He seemed to consider what to do for some time, though he was less frozen than before, gaze shifting a little as he thought and he ran his knuckles over leg idly just to move a bit. Finally, he decided on a partial compromise, and though his hands were still a little unsteady they weren't shaking as badly when he signed a response.
no subject
He might've, upon meeting her eyes, decided to let his walls down and talk to her, except that he couldn't. It was much harder to allow himself to act on emotion rather than logic when he had to actively think about and choose to communicate; words could come out without thought, but to write or sign he had to make a conscious effort. So often, his loss didn't bother him in the way most assumed it did, but other times it bore down on him and made him feel even more trapped in this body than he already did.
Part of the problem was that he didn't know what to say, when he stopped to think about it. How could he explain? What did she know, and what did she not? He didn't want to put this on her anyway; she obviously had enough of her own problems to deal with, especially mortal for whatever is going on in this place now, and Castiel knew how tough it was to adjust. She didn't need to by worrying about him, especially when his problems had no fix.
He seemed to consider what to do for some time, though he was less frozen than before, gaze shifting a little as he thought and he ran his knuckles over leg idly just to move a bit. Finally, he decided on a partial compromise, and though his hands were still a little unsteady they weren't shaking as badly when he signed a response.
I'm alright. There is too much to explain.