And fading her vision was, blurring more, her newly limited perceptive capabiities diminishing by the second.

Meg's mind reels, but thoughts become hard to form. The one constant is fear. Fear that if she dies in Paradisa, she'll end up right back where she was. At Crowley's mercy. In actual, literal hell. The snap of her bones and the drag of the blade through her flesh are agonizingly painful, but they're nothing compared to what she fears might be coming for her next.

Soon, even the fear begins to fade. She can't feel much of anything anymore, can't even focus on the happy memories she never thought she'd have. The last coherent thought she has is of blue eyes, though she can't quite recall why they're so important.