[Since when are there nice supernatural critters, Michael? It's taken Wonderland for him to find any in all the years he's spent in the deep shadows cast by Michael and Lucifer. They are, as any monsters are in Adam's mind, wrong. Finding nightmares built on his memories of angels wouldn't be hard, but truth be told, Michael is already the commander in chief of those, sharing the role with Satan himself. He's hard put to tell the difference between the real Michael and a figment of Michael--it's the face that really gives him away, honestly. Adam doesn't know this version of John well enough to have the memory of his face haunt him.
When Michael makes the inside of his brain quiet down, the hush that results drives the truth home.]
You're really here.
[His presence in this private place isn't the same as taking him over body and soul, but when Adam straightens from his stiff hunch, the fact is still like a bucket of cold water down his back. Given what they're talking about, where they are, it's almost a refreshing feeling. Michael is more dangerous than his head--that could be a worse thing. Or a good thing.
The question is still hanging in the air, waiting to be answered. Because he is intelligent, he knows better than to try and play the silent treatment with Michael over a battle that's not worth fighting.]
You have no idea, do you? [He shakes his head, a gesture of intense weariness. He's been here so many times that Michael being here is what's different.] This is it. This is the only one. I must be sleeping.
[Or unconscious. Same thing, really, just as his dreams these days are variations on the same theme.]
no subject
When Michael makes the inside of his brain quiet down, the hush that results drives the truth home.]
You're really here.
[His presence in this private place isn't the same as taking him over body and soul, but when Adam straightens from his stiff hunch, the fact is still like a bucket of cold water down his back. Given what they're talking about, where they are, it's almost a refreshing feeling. Michael is more dangerous than his head--that could be a worse thing. Or a good thing.
The question is still hanging in the air, waiting to be answered. Because he is intelligent, he knows better than to try and play the silent treatment with Michael over a battle that's not worth fighting.]
You have no idea, do you? [He shakes his head, a gesture of intense weariness. He's been here so many times that Michael being here is what's different.] This is it. This is the only one. I must be sleeping.
[Or unconscious. Same thing, really, just as his dreams these days are variations on the same theme.]