The places his shirt touched his skin felt hot and sticky, his head a little stuffed, drunk on the fading echo of pain. The experience did wonders to dull the anger he'd felt at everything prior. That he still felt the same, still like the same person who'd walked into the resistance hideout, was a relief, to say the least... though on the other hand, he'd felt pretty much the same after Michael had finished with him, too.

Castiel talked about wanting to help, but actually trusting the angel who'd left him behind in the Cage not to screw with him... That was a whole new ball game and not something Adam cared to think about, guaranteed to make him furious all over again. Right now, this was about him. About the most intimate part of him.

After a thick, uncertain silence, Adam settled his gaze on Castiel. "You were more surprised about Michael cutting up my bones," he said. But not surprised about his soul. Not like there was something there he was caught off guard to find.

Adam wasn't sure if that reaction should relieve him or not, as well.