The angel and the boy stared each other for a long moment. It wasn't meant to go this way, Zachariah had promised his Sword but in the few minutes after he had called Michael, everything had obviously went wrong and now he was dead and Dean Winchester was nowhere to be seen. Typical.
Instead he had this boy who kept looking him like a deer in the headlights. Surprisingly he didn't seem so much the usual terrified than fascinated. He even reached out a bit but then yanked his hand back. For some reason he could look straight at him and didn't seemingly feel any pain because of it.
Michael eyed him up and down. He wasn't his true vessel, but in theory he would work. It was only a matter of time when Sam Winchester would give in for Lucifer and he was running out of options. The boy should be close enough.
"Stop moving!"
"I will right after you stop straight out poking it."
"Fine," Adam tossed the swap towards the trash can. "Let's leave it unclean then and let you have sepsis. See if I care. But it needs to be covered because I'm not going to explain to police why you're bleeding over everything. Good luck doing that alone since I'm not allowed to even touch you." The boy stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind himself.
Michael turned to look shoulder from the stingy motel room mirror. He was right. Lucifer had managed to cut so deep that there was no way he could heal it just with his grace.
Adam pulled his hand back from Michael's forehead. "It's probably just some normal virus. You should be back on your feet in a few days, a week on top."
Michael stared him miserably under a bundle of blankets. "I can't get sick."
Adam did his best to keep his smile assuring. It was a fact that Michael was slowly becoming more and more human. "It will pass quickly." He rubbed his back. "I'll go get you something warm to drink and buy some ibuprofen, okay?"
"Good night." Adam kissed his temple and ran his fingers through his hair. Michael closed his eyes and leaned against the hand. "Night."