Adam was already asleep by the time Michael had awoken.
The archangel's dreams had been restless. Nothing like the peaceful, sweet dreams of the Silver City, and more unsettling than the nightmare he had experienced after the panic attack. He hadn't even dreamed, per se - he had just slept, fitfully, painfully. But the worst part was that, when he did wake up, he couldn't help but long for the uneasy sleep again. Because even that was better than being awake, than facing the reality he had been stuck in. For a while, he debated on staying completely still, just not moving, or thinking, and trying not to feel a thing. But it didn't work; Something else was off, something else was happening, on the outside.
He took a moment, just to make sure that Adam really was asleep, before he rose up to take control. It wasn't like he was angry at the demon - no, honestly, he couldn't be even if he didn't care about Adam, because he had been right. On some level, at least, he had been right. He was just hurt, and confused, and guilty - he didn't know how to face the demon, but beyond that, he didn't know how to interact with him anymore without… being in the way. Without being pushy, or controlling, or in his business, where he didn't belong.
Because Michael had made the mistake of confusing Adam's business for his own - which was easy to do when it felt like they were the same person, always on the same page, experiencing and feeling the same things. It was even harder to come to terms with the fact that, recently, they had not only been on completely different pages, completely different chapters, but it seemed like they were completely different books altogether. And he hated it.
Sighing, Michael started to push himself up, only to freeze.
It took a second for him to register the sight in front of him. A bookshelf, knocked over, books scattered, some pages ripped out. A broken chair and table, the legs scattered across the floor. He wished he could have been surprised, but he wasn't. It just hurt. The archangel exhaled and pushed himself up completely, a little unsteady at first, but he managed to keep his balance after a good few seconds. Was he really… that angry? Was he hurting that much? There were still so many things Michael wanted to say, things he wanted to do, but he didn't even know where to begin. Clearly, Adam didn't either. And that didn't make it any easier.
He knew the demon regretted what he'd said, and it wasn't that Michael was holding out for an apology; He could go without it. He just didn't know how to function. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, or how to avoid triggering Adam again. He was giving him his space, what he thought he'd wanted, but now, looking around, Michael wasn't sure if that was the right thing.
He wasn't sure if there… was a right thing in this situation. Was this… it? Was this unfixable? Did they walk that fragile a line, him and Adam? Had it been that breakable? Michael faltered a little bit, shaking his head slightly and leaning down to grab the table by one of the remaining legs, easily lifting it back up. He couldn't set it upright again, so he simply moved it to the corner so that it was out of the way before walking over to retrieve the leg that had been snapped off.
He was halfway through his cleanup when a familiar face poked his head into the room. Michael paused, turning, watching as Sam's eyes widened slightly as the hunter took in the room. For a moment, the archangel almost expected that familiar rush of anger from inside - but there was nothing, he had to remind himself, Adam was asleep. The archangel bit his tongue, struggling to force back the panic bubbling up, an instinctive reaction to the hollow, broken feeling.
"What-" Sam shook his head a little bit, reluctantly stepping into the room. Michael was working on lifting one of the bookshelves up, which he'd briefly forgotten about; The archangel returned to his task quickly, forcing himself to focus, and blinked a little bit in surprise as Sam walked over to gather up the books that had fallen. "What happened?" The hunter asked warily, shooting him an uncertain look, as if expecting some sarcastic, sharp reply from Adam's end. Michael only sighed a little, steadying the bookshelf.
"Adam happened," the archangel mumbled quietly, swallowing hard and turning to help the hunter gather up the books. "He's… he's angry," he explained, running his tongue over his lips and avoiding the hunter's gaze. Sam only gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement, but he still seemed slightly confused. Michael simply stood again and turned, hesitating slightly and shooting uncertain glances between the bookshelf and the books he was holding.
"He seems to get… angry a lot," Sam said carefully, already beginning to put the books he was holding back. Michael continued to hesitate for a moment, but eventually stepped forward and did the same, following the hunter's lead. "About a lot of things…"
"Yes, he's very easily… frustrated, let's say," the archangel mumbled, somewhat awkwardly. "I thought it was a demon thing, at first, but it doesn't quite seem to be the case," he added, thinking back to the demon, Crowley, that had arrived. He didn't seem particularly angry - unless it came to Lucifer, at least - just mildly annoyed every so often. But, even then, it didn't amount to the rage that he was used to from Adam. "I just don't know…" He trailed off, faltering again.
Sam spared him a glance, the hunter falling silent for a long time after that. He finished putting away the books he had, and turned to pick up the others that had been scattered across the floor. "Demons are different," the hunter finally spoke, a little more confident, but still slightly wary. Michael paused at that, glancing over as he went back to putting the books away on the shelf. "Some are angry, others… well, honestly, I think they're all naturally angry. I guess some of them are just better at controlling it, I guess."
"That makes sense," Michael mumbled, frowning. "And considering Adam doesn't have much practice on that particular aspect…"
"It's harder for him to control," Sam finished, looking over at the archangel. Michael only frowned a little deeper at that thought, looking away. And he couldn't even help the demon, now, because… well, because he wasn't supposed to get in his business anymore.
The archangel put the last book on the shelf and turned away again, looking around. Most of the books had been picked up by now, only a few remaining; Michael picked those up while Sam took to gathering the pages that had been torn out, frowning all the while as he did so. The silence was sickening in itself; With each passing second, he felt even more hollow, and he hadn't even thought that was possible. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Michael stepped back and turned away completely, running his fingers through his hair and pressing his eyes shut.
Sam's voice was quiet when he spoke, but concerned all the same. "Are you… you alright?" He sounded less wary, less guarded, more worried than anything. Michael just shook his head, both as an answer and in an attempt to force his thoughts steady again. He hated this, being alone, in control. He hated it, because the only thing he could ever think of was Adam, and the fact that he wasn't there - well, he was there, but he wasn't there. And the possibility that he wouldn't ever be there again, that they wouldn't ever be whole again, well, that was even worse.
"I don't know what to do," Michael mumbled, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his fingers into his hair, shaking his head again desperately. "I don't know- where to begin."
Sam was silent, seemingly waiting for Michael to continue; When the archangel didn't, the hunter slowly set the pages down on one of the other tables, and made his way over to stand beside Michael, keeping a comfortable distance but keeping close enough to let Michael know he was still there. "About?" He asked, gentle and concerned.
Michael didn't respond for a moment, still struggling against his own anxiety, his own worry. Finally, though, the archangel lowered his hands from his head, only to wrap them around himself as tight as he could. "I can't… I can't make things right…" He faltered, swallowed, and continued again. "I can't do things right. Everything I say, ev- everything I do, I just- I just… it's so hard… all the time."
Sam just stared at him, silent understanding flickering through his eyes, waiting for the archangel to continue. And he did, after a moment, his anxiety fading back into that deep, aching pain that was still just throbbing through his chest.
"I just want him to be happy," Michael breathed, closing his eyes again and shaking his head. "I want- I- I want- I want him to stop being so angry all the time, so hurt. I can feel it- I can feel how hurt he is, how furious he is, and it's just so constant. And it hurts- it hurts me, so I can't even imagine- I can't even imagine how it feels to him. And I try- I try… so hard to help, and I…" Tears were brewing now, slowly but surely, behind his eyelids; And he squeezed them shut even tighter, a desperate attempt to push them back. "It all just seems… so…"
"Impossible?" Sam asked quietly, and Michael could only nod. The hunter was silent for a while, and Michael took the chance to compose himself as much as he could, raising his hands again to rub at his eyes as he struggled to keep the tears back. His eyes stung, his throat felt tight.
"I just don't…" Michael shook his head a little bit, pressing his hands into his eyes now and trying to swallow down the lump that had risen in his throat, to no avail. If anything, it seemed to get even worse the more he tried to force it back. "I really don't know what to do, you know? It's like he's willing to- to let himself- to just- to let himself drown in this- this anger and this pain, and I don't… I don't understand…" His voice quieted a little more. "Why he- he won't let me help."
"Sometimes… people push us away when they need us the most," Sam said quietly after a few seconds, tucking his hands into his pockets. Michael rubbed his eyes again, scrubbing them as dry as he could before finally forcing them open and sparing the hunter a hesitant glance. "It's like some kind of instinct, for the more stubborn ones, I guess. And it- it can happen to the best of us, if I'm honest." The hunter paused, glancing up briefly to meet Michael's gaze. "And, you know… you won't always… know how to help. How to make it better. What to say, what to do…" Sam trailed off for a moment, looking away. "... but you will. Eventually."
"Even if- even when he doesn't want me to?" Michael almost laughed, even though there was seriously, seriously nothing remotely funny about this situation. The archangel swallowed, running his fingers through his hair again, holding his hands over his head for a good few seconds before finally dropping his arms to his sides.
"Especially then," Sam replied quietly. "Because that means he's not going to try hard enough for himself. And that just means he needs you even more. Even if he doesn't know it, and- and even if he's not willing to admit it." At this, Michael fell silent. Despite himself, Sam's words had actually calmed him down quite a bit - it made sense, it really did. But even then, he was still at a loss on how to begin, how to talk to Adam after everything that had happened, everything that had been said. He was still scared, on some level - but beyond that…
Sam was right - Adam needed him. Because he wasn't going to let anybody else get close enough. And he wasn't going to help himself.
Michael relaxed, slowly, the tension draining from his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around himself again, a little less tightly than before. He flicked his gaze back to Sam, who had turned back to the pages from the books, seemingly trying to sort out exactly what books they had belonged to. The archangel hesitated a bit, before taking a deep breath and speaking up once more. "... Thank you."
Sam glanced up, but he hardly missed a beat before he responded, offering a warm but sorrowful looking smile, almost wistful. "Thank you," he replied quietly, looking back down again. "You were there for Adam when we c- … when we weren't. When we should have been. And…" He trailed off, pulling a book off of the shelf and tucking one of the pages into it. "Well, it's clear that you care about each other. At the very least, you care about him. I'm just glad someone has his back." The hunter fell silent, looking down for a moment as he put the book back.
Michael nodded, shifting slightly on his feet. He glanced up at the hunter, eyebrows furrowing. He wondered if Sam was feeling guilty, too - if it was as strong as the guilty that he felt over the whole situation with Lucifer. He wondered if the hunter was drowning in it, just as lost, just as confused. Not knowing what to do, what to say - wondered if he was just as scared to try.
"I want him to be happy," the archangel repeated himself after a few seconds, hesitating, before he continued, "I want him to stop being angry. And… and I want him to stop being so angry at you and Dean, too." At this, Sam looked over at him, almost looking slightly surprised as the archangel continued on, quieter, "he does… deserve to be angry… and I'll support him no matter what he decides, but…" Michael glanced away for a moment, hesitating. "But… he deserves to be happy, too. So, I hope he does forgive you. Or, at least, I- I hope he can let go."
"Yeah," Sam's response was quiet, understanding. "Me, too." He seemed about to say more, only to pause and turn his head when Dean called for him from down the hall, a loud, echoey - "Sammy!" - and the hunter snorted a little and shook his head. "Just a second!" He yelled back, turning back to face Michael again and giving him a small nod. "I hope you work things out."
"You, too," Michael replied genuinely, and Sam managed a slight smile in response, putting the rest of the pages away before turning and leaving the room, just in time as Dean called out for him again. The archangel glanced after the hunter, then turned his head to look back at the bookshelves, letting his gaze flicker around the room slowly. Aside from the broken table and chair, both of which were stacked up in the corner, the room looked mostly decent.
He was still anxious. Still confused. Still nervous. But he was just a little bit calmer than he had been before Sam had entered the room, thinking just a little bit clearer, and that was what he needed. He still didn't know what to do about Adam, he still didn't know how to approach him, but he was a little more confident that he would be able to figure it out now. Just a little.
For a moment, he debated on leaving the library - but, no, bad idea. He would just get far too overwhelmed out there, anyway. So, he pulled a chair out and sat down, crossed his arms over the table, and closed his eyes. It was peaceful enough, and right then, he just needed to think.
People push us away when they need us the most. With Adam, Michael would have to remember that.