her whole body aches, from her neck to her feet — each bone begging for relief, each frayed nerve screaming for peace. she can’t get it, & she won’t get it; & though she’s aware of the wary, vaguely scolding gaze he’s casting upon her, meg can’t help but avoid his eyes, like a child caught red-handed. “ i don’t know ”, rubbing the back of her neck won’t make the tiredness fade away, but she keeps her eyes focused on the files before her ( hoping to find what, exactly ? she’s not sure. she’s not even sure she’s seeing the point of trying, anymore ) & attempts to ignore him. a thought is burned & etched into the back of her brain, a name & a face she has once hoped to forget: can’t get to sleep, knowing her own nightmare’s leaked out into the world. can’t close her eyes, if she blinks she might miss him. “ cut me some slack, mike ”, meg sighs, leaning back on her chair as she faintly rubs her temples. “ you know better than me that we can’t just sleep on his. ”