Outside the bathroom, one foot braced against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest is an archangel who has been spectacularly MIA the past week and a half or so. He needed time to recharge and Murphy could probably stand some time away from his corrupting influence. Oh wait, he doesn't care about that. ...Really, he's just a cat. He wanders off and then comes back when it suits him and there's really no sense in questioning it.
"Guess this means your brain's still broken, hm?" He asks, as soon as she walks back out.
She flinches in surprise and barely resists the urge to punch him in the face. "What the fuck do you get out of doing that?"
If she looks haggard, exhausted, and generally like shit--it's because she's feeling all of the above, in addition to half-crazy from horror and lack of sleep at this point. "What do you want?"
Gabriel looks simultaneously affronted and innocent. "Get out of doing what?" He backs off the wall, throwing his hands up. "Hey, if you're bored of my company, I bet there are a hundred tiny blondes aching to spend more time with me."
He pauses, pursing his lips in a considering look. "You look like six kinds of shit, by the way. What the heck's goin' on?"
Murphy collapses against the wall in his place, scrubbing the heel of her hand against her eyes. "I don't know." It's sharp and scratchy. Murphy clears her throat. "I just. Can't sleep."
Understatement of the year? Possibly. Murphy shivers. "It's different then before, when I dreamed about--it's just different. It's like something's waiting for me to close my eyes. Maybe that's just the fact that I haven't had a good night's sleep since we were stuck two klicks past the end of the world talking, but it's... I don't know. It just feels like something's waiting for me every time I try to sleep."
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"Guess this means your brain's still broken, hm?" He asks, as soon as she walks back out.
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If she looks haggard, exhausted, and generally like shit--it's because she's feeling all of the above, in addition to half-crazy from horror and lack of sleep at this point. "What do you want?"
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He pauses, pursing his lips in a considering look. "You look like six kinds of shit, by the way. What the heck's goin' on?"
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Understatement of the year? Possibly. Murphy shivers. "It's different then before, when I dreamed about--it's just different. It's like something's waiting for me to close my eyes. Maybe that's just the fact that I haven't had a good night's sleep since we were stuck two klicks past the end of the world talking, but it's... I don't know. It just feels like something's waiting for me every time I try to sleep."
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