Adam was stretched out in his bed, half-propped up against the headboard and half-laying down. He had given up trying to sleep a while ago; He had drifted off a few times, and in that time he had struggled and searched for Michael throughout his dreams, but he couldn't find the archangel. It was worrying, but not surprising. His old body-buddy wasn't asleep - he was unconscious, and there was a difference there. He might not even be dreaming at all - though of course that was entirely possible, too - but he was still unconscious, even in his dreams, while he was comatose. So all Adam could do was wait, and pray he would wake up soon.
He ran his thumb up and down one of the pages in John's journal, quietly just flipping through the leather-bound book to see if he had written anything interesting. Aside from the monsters, at least - there were a few more personal notes, but nothing that Adam particularly cared for. He did find something about John going to Minnesota - on a ghoul hunt, go figure - but there wasn't much to read about that. The next few pages had been torn out, as if he had written something down and then torn it out after a second thought, something he just wanted to keep to himself.
Someone he just wanted to keep to himself.
Uninterested, he left the page to skip forward a bit, sighing a little to himself. Another rush of pain flooded his stomach, another surge of dizziness overtaking him, and he sighed, grimaced, and closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to push past it. At this point, it was nothing more than a nuisance; He didn't even care anymore, he could handle the pain and dizziness and nausea for sure, but he'd still rather not have to. It wasn't exactly pleasant. And this is coming from a borderline masochist. He rubbed his hand down his face and scowled.
Eventually, he did push himself to sit up completely, sighing a little and reaching over to turn the lamp on. He had left the lights off even though he was reading, his senses obviously sharp enough to be able to see easily in the darkness, but he was starting to get sick of it anyway. He wasn't tired, and without being able to connect to Michael, he saw no point in trying to sleep otherwise, so having the light off was unnecessary anyway. He turned his head to look around, flicking his gaze around the room quietly, then frowned a little and looked toward the door, which he'd left open just in case. He wanted a beer, but… he didn't want to get up…
He looked down at his hands, putting the book down in front of him on the bed. He hadn't exactly promised Michael he wouldn't use his powers, but he had promised that he wouldn't do it enough to burn off the rest of his humanity - or, at the very least, he wouldn't let himself become a villain if he somehow did. But, as soon as the thought came, he dismissed it; Yes, he had super cool powers he could use whenever he wanted to, at the expense of burning the rest of his humanity away - which, to be fair, he wasn't too worried about anyway - but he was also aware that there was no point using the powers, however cool they might be, unless he absolutely needed to do so. This wasn't fun and games anymore, like it was with Bela. This was serious, and Adam had to treat it as such; He could get up and go get himself a beer. He had two working legs that wouldn't burn off the rest of his humanity, and the kitchen wasn't far.
He pushed himself up off of the bed and stretched, raising his arms up above his head and slowly letting them drop back down with a sigh. He turned his head slightly toward the doorway again, then turned and headed off, making sure to be as quiet as possible, just in case his brothers actually had maybe done as he'd requested and went to sleep. They were no use against Chuck if they were half-dead on their feet and wounded. Adam knew it was a little hypocritical of him, considering he wasn't asleep, himself, like he'd planned on doing - but then again he wasn't the one with sleep-deprivation issues and he wasn't the one who'd just nearly died fighting against God, so, yeah, he was a little justified in staying awake. He'd sleep when he slept, no big deal, wasn't like he was tired anyway.
Making his way to the kitchen, he grabbed what he wanted - a beer, and, after a second thought, one more just because - and then made his way back to his room. He did stop on the way back, though, to check over what Crowley and Rowena were doing, mildly curious by all the weird spellbooks and ingredients on the tables, but even more so intrigued by the sword.
"Hello, Hellhound," Crowley greeted him pleasantly, and Adam didn't dignify the little nickname with a response, just spared him a glance and looked back down at the sword. He shifted the beers to one arm to move over, reaching out as if to touch it - but pulling back when Rowena gave him a slightly warning glare. He wasn't scared of the witch - though he figured he should be, to be honest, just 'cause - but he wasn't going to step on her toes for no reason. She was the one going over all of this crap, so he wouldn't mess with her work, curious or not.
"Where'd Lucifer go?"
"Who knows, who cares?" Crowley dismissed easily enough. "He did go into the library, but I heard wings flapping, so he likely took off somewhere. I don't know." The demon shrugged, and Adam turned his head slightly to look toward the library, then just shrugged and looked back at the other two, uninterested. He planned on going back to his own room and actually getting through John's journal, though checking out that library was definitely one of his goals. Eventually.
Rowena offered Adam a kind smile, looking somewhat amused by her son's words, but adding nothing to the subject and instead asking, "did you need something, dearie?"
There was something about her smile - some sort of warmth, almost… motherly. It drained the rest of the tension from Adam's shoulders, helped him to relax just a little bit more. It reminded him of his own mother, the kind of sweet friendliness Kate had always carried. "Nah." He held up one of the beers, allowing a smile of his own to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Can't sleep, so I'm gonna drink, read and try to figure out the rest of our plan. Lucifer fill you in?"
"No." Rowena tilted her head.
"Of course he didn't," Adam muttered with a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. Someone's gotta fill them in, right? The Devil had told him, hands in his pockets, leaning casually against one of the tables and shrugging at the demon. Go rest. I got this. And, of course, Adam had actually believed Lucifer would fill them in, believed he wouldn't get distracted by… whatever the hell he'd been distracted by… but he brushed it off easily enough, shaking his head slightly at himself. No time to be bitter about that, was there? It was out of his mind almost immediately, turning his attention back to Rowena and Crowley. "Well, basically, Chuck's off and doing whatever the hell he's doing. So we're gonna let him get comfortable for a little while, let him think he's okay, and go after him when we finish up with the Cage. That way, by the time we actually do manage to go up against him again, we'll actually be ready instead of having to babysit him and worry about him breaking free while we finish everything up."
"Good," Crowley huffed a little, "now we can actually focus." He turned his attention away then, back to the ingredients spread across the table, and simply began picking through them in silence, seemingly tuning the other two out. Adam quirked an eyebrow at him, while Rowena rolled her eyes at her son and turned away again, giving Adam a dry smile this time. Even then, humorless as it was, it still somewhat reminded him of the smiles his mother would give him - and so, it was hard to keep his lips from twitching upwards again in response.
"Sounds like a good plan to me," the witch noted, studying him for a moment, and Adam blinked back at her as he lightly pushed himself away from the table, shifting the beers to his other arm and trying not to wince as he felt another stab of pain curling up in his stomach. He did react - just with the faintest twitch, as it had taken him by surprise - but he brushed it off easily enough, sighing, and finally turned to leave again - only to pause and look back when Rowena spoke up again, sounding oddly intrigued. "Are you hurt?"
Adam glanced back at her, not sure how to respond to that. He wasn't technically hurt, but he was hurting. "No," he finally responded, shaking his head a little. "Michael is, though. From the-" He gestured to his own stomach, and then the sword on the table, and Rowena's head tilted towards it for a second without breaking her gaze from his. "And, we're still connected, so. Yeah." He shrugged a little. "Guess he's still in pain or something- or Dean is, maybe."
Rowena's mouth twisted into a frown, then lifted into a pleasant smile once again, this time much too polite, too… formal, to be considered warm, or motherly. "Right, of course. Well, just so long as you're not injured, I suppose, dear. Sorry to keep you- scurry along, hit the books and give yourself liver poisoning," she laughed, and Adam just stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing suspiciously, but he didn't say anything else on the subject. Just offered the red-head a curt half-nod in response before turning, once again, to continue on his way back to his room.
It wasn't too long after he had finally gotten settled again - sitting in his bed under the covers, lamp on, door open, John's journal spread open in his lap and an open beer bottle in his hand, the other one on the nightstand - that he was disturbed - by someone he least expected to see. The knocking at the doorway startled him, eyes flicking up at once, teeth bared, eyes dark.
Only to pause, blinking, when he saw who it was; It was Dean - surprisingly enough. And, at once, Adam's gaze began searching his face for any sign of Michael, any hint of the archangel present, but there was none. The demon grimaced, swallowed, and tried not to visibly deflate at the slight disappointment, instead clearing his throat and flicking his gaze back up to his oldest half-brother with a very, very disapproving frown appearing on his face, slowly but steadily. "This is like, the exact opposite of sleeping," he reminded the hunter, and the oldest Winchester just laughed a little, somewhat sheepishly, as he leaned against the doorway.
"Yeah… hey, though, I tried," Dean offered, folding his arms across his chest in a way that, oddly enough, kind of reminded Adam of Michael. But the possibility that it could be the archangel was gone; His best friend would have said something by now, and Adam would be able to tell, just by one glance into his eyes, one look at his face, no matter who he was wearing. "I just… I don't know. Too restless, I guess. Too…" He trailed off, seemingly searching for a word, and Adam brought himself back to his senses long enough to listen. "... quiet."
Despite himself, a dry smile twisted at Adam's mouth, lips tugging up at the corners. Dean didn't have to explain what he meant by that; the demon understood perfectly. "I know how you feel," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the hunter to hear. He turned his head, looking toward the unopened beer bottle sitting on the nightstand - and, with a quiet, huffing sigh, he glanced back at Dean and inclined his head toward it, a silent offer for the hunter to join him. His brother didn't hesitate; Shoving himself forward, away from the doorway, he crossed the room in just a few slow strides and plucked the beer bottle up by the neck, pulling out a chair and positioning himself beside the bed, half-facing Adam and half-facing the door.
"Dad's journal, huh?" The oldest Winchester managed an amused-looking grin as he looked down at the book in Adam's lap, causing the demon to pause, sparing a glance downwards at it. He puffed his cheeks out, sighed, and shrugged back at Dean in response.
"Yeah. Sam gave it to me a while ago." Adam stared down at the journal for a moment, eyebrows pinching together slightly, and he sank back against the headboard of the bed after a moment with another half-shrug in Dean's direction, lifting the bottle back to his lips and taking a long sip, swallowing it down in one gulp before he continued, "somethin' about learning about monsters, or something, I don't know. Pretty sure it was his version of an olive branch, though."
"Knowing Sam, it probably was," Dean noted, abruptly standing up - but only to turn the chair around so that he could sit backwards in it now, crossing his arms over the back of it and bringing his own bottle up to sip from it. "He's a good kid, y'know. Tries real hard - a little too hard, sometimes, but he always means well." He looked down at the bottle for a moment. Then, with a quiet little hum, he took another sip of his beer before asking, "so, how you doing?"
"All things considered? Not too bad," Adam hummed, flipping a page in the journal and tapping his fingers against the neck of the bottle. "Y'know… all things considered. How 'bout you?"
Dean arched an eyebrow at him, looking as if he understood that, then heaved out a heavy-sounding sigh and swallowed down a few more mouthfuls. "Not too bad. All things considered," he echoed the demon, who just nodded along slightly in his agreement. "But I didn't mean in regards to this current… situation we're in-" He gestured slightly with one hand. "I mean, y'know. After everything with Bela." He flicked his gaze toward the demon, and Adam finally lifted his own eyes to meet his oldest half-brother's, eyebrows quirking slightly.
"Fine," he responded curtly. "Like I said, all things considered. I'm not gonna spend my time moping over some girl. What's done is done. If what she told me was true, then she won't be bothering with Chuck anymore, and, obviously, I'm not there to manipulate her, so- she'll be fine, I'll be fine, and I'd like to get on with my life, throw God in the Cage, get Michael back and…" He trailed off for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly in consideration, then let out a low grunt and sank back against the headboard again, a slight frown tugging at his lips now. "Well, I don't really know what's next… or what Mike'll plan to do, y'know, considering-" He pointed his bottle toward the ceiling, then lifted it up to take another sip. "Cross that bridge when we get to it."
Dean just nodded in agreement, letting his arms drape down over the back of the chair and swinging his bottle from side to side; Adam watched, slightly mesmerized by the movements. "Well, y'know, if Michael does decide not to go back to Heaven, the two of you are always welcome to stick around here," the hunter suggested idly, "I mean- you don't have to if you don't want to, but it'd be kinda nice to introduce you to hunting, teach you about things."
"Ooh, teach me how to be a true Winchester," Adam teased, though there was no hostility in his tone, no bitterness; just amusement, written clearly across his face as he looked away from Dean, instead turning his gaze back to the journal, himself. "Well, I don't know," he finally spoke up again, looking thoughtful. "Sam did mention something about learning how to hunt before. But, like I said, it depends on Michael. If he goes to Heaven, man, demon or not, I-"
"You're going with him," Dean interrupted. "I know. Trust me, I get it now - at least, as much as I can, anyway. You need each other," he emphasized, as Adam looked back over at him. "I've seen enough from his end to understand that. I wouldn't ask either of you to change it. Not now."
Adam arched an eyebrow, faintly curious by that. "Yeah?" Dean nodded, and Adam pursed his lips, looking thoughtful, for a good few seconds, before letting his breath out slowly through his teeth and shaking his head. Well, it certainly took his brother long enough to warm up to the archangel, but it definitely wasn't too late to do so; At least, now, the hunter understood; and he was finally accepting Michael, which was just making it easier for Adam to accept him. It seemed like Michael really did just bring out the best in everyone he came into contact with; which made it even harder for the demon to hate the fact that Michael was possessing Dean now, instead of him. Seeing the good that came out of it was making it a little easier to grasp.
"Well, good," the demon finally spoke up again. "At least you get it now. Michael's no monster."
Dean paused, only for a second, a very slight grimace appearing on his face - until, finally, the slight guarded expression crumbled, the walls that were left - that Michael hadn't unintentionally torn down himself - falling away. Dean leaned forward again, sinking his weight forward into the back of the chair, and pursed his lips somewhat thoughtfully for just a few seconds before he spoke up again, his voice a little quieter now. "Michael is… a lot of things," he finally allowed, slow and steady, "but to tell you the truth, I don't think monster is one of them."
"It never was," Adam replied, thinking back to the way Michael was before; just a soldier, following his Father's orders, even though he didn't want to. That didn't make him a monster, it just made him… obedient. It just made him somewhat naive, working for someone who really couldn't care less. And then, after everything, handling the truth so well given the circumstances, and still striving to be better and better after day, Adam couldn't see how anybody could even consider the idea that he was anything but good. "So how long did it take to change your mind?" The demon asked slowly, looking over at Dean. "Few seconds? A day?"
Dean snorted a little, and shook his head. "About five minutes," he finally replied, sinking his weight forward against the back of the chair. "Y'know, when the other Michael possessed me - I could feel it, right from the get-go, the second he was in my head, that it wasn't going to go down the way I'd intended it to. But by the time I realized that he wasn't going to uphold his end of the bargain, he was already… in my head. It was too late." His oldest brother shook his head, while Adam just nodded slightly in understanding. "But then, y'know, Mike," Dean emphasized, "just a few seconds with the guy, I knew every intention, every thought and feeling and worry in his head. He didn't care about anything else except making sure you were safe. It was all out in the open, y'know? Right there, nothing to hide-" He paused, shaking his head, and added, "well, except for everything with Lucifer, but even when he slipped up on that, he didn't do anything. He didn't try to lie, he didn't try to pretend it didn't happen, he just- he just kind of… I don't know. Even with that, you were still his first priority. So I had a lot of time to think about everything myself after that. I couldn't fill in all the blanks, but I knew one thing, for sure, that everything he was doing, or everything he'd done, it was all for… good. That he was good."
Adam looked back over at him, still silent, though he finally allowed himself to soften, somewhat, toward his oldest brother. A part of him also noted, beyond the fact that his time with the archangel had apparently softened the oldest Winchester, if only slightly, that this was especially good for Dean, helping him get over the trauma that the other Michael had left. Maybe it wouldn't all go away - maybe it couldn't - but it was like his best friend was still helping to heal those wounds, even if unintentionally, and that was just another reason Adam thought he was the best being in the world, how much he helped people. Even when he didn't mean to.
He snapped himself out of his thoughts, clearing his throat a little, and shook his head slightly with a sigh, looking back over at Dean and offering a small smile, not masked with dry humor or sarcasm - just… warm, as warm as he could make it. Dean's lips twitched upwards in response, his own expression softening considerably. "He is good," he murmured. "The best."
Dean chuckled a little, then cleared his throat, letting out a soft sigh and straightening up a little bit in the chair. "To Michael, huh?" The oldest Winchester reached out, offering his bottle to Adam, and, with a snort, the demon lifted his own.
"I'll drink to that." He lightly tapped Dean's bottle with his own, and they both sat back, lifting their bottles to their lips and each taking a sip; Adam finished off the rest of what he had, while Dean was nursing his a little slower than the demon was - and of course he was, he could actually get drunk. Didn't matter how fast or how slow Adam drank, it didn't work for him. A part of him thought that that was definitely ridiculous, considering he was still part human, but…
"So I've been thinking," Dean suddenly spoke up, spinning his bottle a little bit, and Adam leaned over to set his on the nightstand before sitting back in the bed again, nodding slightly at his brother to continue. "You can't reach Mike, can you?"
"Nope," Adam replied, popping the "p". "I'd be asleep right now if I could, but."
"That's what I thought." Dean huffed out a sigh, frowning a little, then shook his head slightly and continued, "well, I was thinking - if Mike can't wake himself up on his own, and if you can't find a way to weasel into his dreams somehow, I have another way you might be able to reach him. I mean, I'm not completely sure, especially considering I can't even find the guy, but you know his head better than I do." Adam tilted his head, intrigued now, as Dean gestured his bottle toward his own head. "You're a demon. And an angel- so you should be able to possess people. And, I mean, if you have to - if that's what it takes, maybe you can get in here and find him yourself."
Adam blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly. It was an interesting plan, for sure - and it could, very well, work. Of course, he wasn't too sure, considering that he'd never possessed anyone before - and he didn't even know how to, for that matter - but Dean was right; He knew Michael better than the hunter did, and he'd woken him up several times himself, before, anyway. So, if need be, he could very well go into Dean's head and try and find Michael in there, and may even be able to bring him back…
"Or," Dean continued steadily, and Adam glanced up again. "You know, even if you can't find him, Amara said that one of the reasons she couldn't restore his powers was because he wasn't whole. 'Cause you weren't with him," Dean emphasized, and Adam arched an eyebrow. "So, you know, even if he's unconscious- if you were with him…"
"There's a possibility that she could heal him, bringing him back to full strength," Adam finished, eyebrows raising slightly as he contemplated the idea.
"Her or Jack, at least," Dean allowed, narrowing his eyes faintly in thought, and Adam nodded along in agreement, a little lost in his own thoughts now. "Like I said, y'know, it's just a possibility. Just in case he can't pull himself out of it. I mean, hell, it's been a while, and he still hasn't come to, y'know? It's always good to have a backup plan, just in case."
Adam nodded again, glancing back over at him. "Well, it's a good plan. Seems I'm not the only one with brains around here," he commented, then sighed. "One problem, though."
Dean arched an eyebrow at him, as if to say, a problem? With my flawless plan? Are you sure? And Adam almost laughed a little bit as the expression on his face, causing Dean's mouth to twitch, cracking into a grin, before they both turned serious again, both of them slightly amused now. "Usually is. What is it?" Dean chuckled, lifting the bottle back to his lips and tilting his head back, seemingly downing what was left, and reaching over to put the bottle on the nightstand beside Adam's before he had even swallowed down his mouthful.
"Well, considering I kind of went through the equivalent of a demonized divorce before I could finish my training with Bela…" Adam shrugged, crossing his legs under the blanket, and chuckled at the expression on Dean's face. "I don't know how to possess people."