[He stirs in the manner of someone coming out of a deep sleep. Every time Adam drifts off into those rare moments of rest, those moments his body so desperately craves, he comes to in the same way he does now--lost, adrift, scared. Another day in the life of a tortured mind. Nothing is particularly new or surprising about this until his eyes flutter open and he notices the figure looming over him like something out of his nightmares. His intake of breath is sharp, but as he flinches back and his hand comes down on a piece of broken plate, it turns even sharper, a hiss of pain.
He turns his palm over to examine the cut. The sting dispels his grogginess like a fresh gasp of air.]
What...?
[He looks around himself, but nothing is familiar. Castiel is another matter, though.
Although his lips stay parted, he falls silent at the sight of the angel. The Mirror's easy, unburdened mannerisms are gone; a sure sign that Castiel had done his work, if not a reassuring one, per se.]
no subject
He turns his palm over to examine the cut. The sting dispels his grogginess like a fresh gasp of air.]
What...?
[He looks around himself, but nothing is familiar. Castiel is another matter, though.
Although his lips stay parted, he falls silent at the sight of the angel. The Mirror's easy, unburdened mannerisms are gone; a sure sign that Castiel had done his work, if not a reassuring one, per se.]