"You're not Sandy."

"Ooh, you're quick," the thing wearing the angel wearing the Wiener Hut uniform says, turning to smirk at Adam. In the almost-darkness as night falls, his eyes turn black as beetle wings. Despite himself, Adam flinches.

"Samandriel in there?" he asks, grinding his teeth when he hears his voice waver. He's trying to make a stand, hands fisted at his sides. This was the family business, wasn't it? Staring down demons, working them out of their hosts? Yeah, he never learned any of John's tricks, but some of it had to be instinctive, right?

"He's putting up a racket," the demon answers, putting a hand to his head like he's got a killer migraine. It looks all wrong- his mouth is quirked into a scowl instead of a smile, his eyes aren't black anymore but they're cold, nothing like Samandriel's.

"How does that work then?" Adam says, relieved when his voice doesn't break. Samandriel's awake and alive. He hangs onto that for strength, or courage, or whatever the hell he needs to take on the monster he's looking at. "Angel and a demon in one body."

"It's like having a really annoying roommate," the demon shrugs, his shoulders sinking into a position that just makes him look fed up with the whole conversation. "Are we done here?"

"No," Adam says, inhaling to keep his fists from shaking. "Get out of him."

The demon appears shocked, mouth rounding into a wide "o" of surprise. "No one's ever tried that before!" he exclaims. "Asking the demon to leave. Dear Lucifer, you're a genius! I don't know why John ever gave you up, you've just revolutionized hunting! They'll be writing books about you, Adam Milligan!" While Adam slumps a bit, the thing that isn't Samandriel continues to laugh. It sounds harsh and brittle, nothing like the raucous laughs Adam's heard from the real Samandriel. "You are out of your league, Hellboy."

"Doesn't matter," Adam spits back. "Sandy's still in there."

"Is that where you're placing all your hope?" he asks, grinning. "The marshmallow with wings?" While he scoffs and laughs, Adam unclenches a fist and reaches into his pocket, fingers searching for the dagger he'd picked up a few weeks ago. "Yes, your angel is in here," the demon continues, stepping forward with a wicked grin. "I can make him not want to be though." When he crooks back an arm, Adam slides his hands behind his back. He can't block the fist that swings out and collides with his face, probably fracturing his nose and bruising a portion of his cheek. Coughing, he feels blood drip into his mouth. "Feel that, Sandy?" the demon jaunts, looking upward like he's talking to his own forehead.

"Don't listen to 'im, S'mandriel," Adam says, grunting against the pain of the broken nose, his hands still behind his back like Peter Pan.

"He doesn't really get a choice, does he?" the demon says, hitting Adam again, twice, three times. "His ears are my ears, and- well, I love the sound of my own voice." He kicks forward, landing a knee in Adam's stomach. Still not defending himself, Adam drops to the ground, working to maintain his balance without using his hands. He's balancing on his knees now, and with his arms behind him he almost, ridiculously, looks like the limbless knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. "Also growing fond of the sound of your bones breaking."

"Sandy, don' worry," he chokes out, breathing heavy, looking up to find Samandriel in the demon's cold eyes. "Don't worry." It's like the time Samandriel broke the cup holding the coffee he'd been bringing to him- he'd cried actual tears seeing the shattered ceramic on the linoleum, and Adam had knelt down, put a hand on his shoulder, and told him not to worry, had kept telling him over and over, long after the broken pieces had been swept up and thrown away. Don't worry. It's just a cup.

Don't worry, Adam thinks now, the talking beginning to hurt too much. It's just me.

"Well, I'm having fun." Not-Samandriel asks, leaning down so he's at eye-level with Adam. "Are you?"

The blood's clotting around his nose and it hurts to look up from the grass, but Adam does, he looks up at Samandriel's face and says, "Not yet." That's when the arms come out from behind his back, and the demon can see the angel banishing sigil Adam's carved into the upper part of his left forearm. "Now'm havin' fun." He presses a bloody thumb to the sigil and with a twisted howl, Samandriel and the demon inside him vanish, and it's just Adam in a field.

He doesn't remember how he got out of that field, but somehow he did, crawled off and into his pickup and got himself back to the motel he'd been staying in with Samandriel. In a distant part of his mind, he realizes that he should call a hospital or at least find a first aid kit, but his face and stomach hurt too much to get up after he collapses on the couch. He's breathing in, thick and heavy, and the sound of it is so loud that he almost doesn't notice the noise of footsteps on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry, Adam."

Through the blood drying on his lips, Adam smiles. "S'alright. He's gone now?"

"Yes," says Samandriel, coming to sit next to where Adam's lying. He looks shaken and worried, but alive and very much himself. "The sigil sent me to Heaven. Demons can't get into Heaven. He's back where he came from."

"Good," Adam grunts, the adrenaline and endorphins that had kicked in after the fight wearing off now that Samandriel's back and safe and okay. "Hey, could you-"

"Of course." Samandriel touches two fingers to Adam's forehead and the blood and bruises and broken bones seal up and disappear. Adam sighs, relief flooding him. "I'm sorry," Samandriel says again.

"Hey, you got nothin' to be sorry for."

"I won't let it happen again."

"Well, that- that sounds like a plan." Adam smiles, exhaustion overcoming him as he leans back against the couch, because while Samandriel might've healed his wounds he was still tired from the fight and from getting back here.

"Thanks," Samandriel mumbles as he stands up. "For saving me."

"Just returning a favor," Adam says as his angel gets him a cup of coffee.